Stanford Pines was very confused.

Ever since waking up that day in the bunker, there had been a feeling of urgency that he couldn't shake. He couldn't remember much from that time; it was all a blur. Something about Bill Cipher? Something about the danger he posed? Ford couldn't remember. Why couldn't he remember?

Surely he wrote something down in his Journal. But when he went through it, he found torn pages. This sent him into a panic — he would never rip pages out of his Journals! He asked Stanley and Fiddleford about it, and Fidds winced. "Shifty was ripping out pages when I got down to the bunker and found you unconscious," he said. "I'm sorry, Ford."

At first, Ford was annoyed that Fidds didn't inform him of this right away. But then, as he flipped through to assess the damage, he found an errant page, half-torn and spattered with blood, depicting a large image of Bill. Words above, written in Ford's handwriting, read, "My dreams aren't safe"; and below, "It is possible to follow the demon into a person's mind and prevent his chaos. One must simply recite this incantation." Beneath that were random Latin phrases.

Ford didn't remember writing this page. And he certainly didn't remember bleeding on it.

Was he going crazy? Was his dedication to his work addling his brain? For he was plagued by an unknowable apprehension, one that centered on the portal. It was suddenly all he could think about. He had to finish the portal. He didn't know why, but he had to finish it. If he didn't, something terrible might happen. Something. . . something to do with Bill Cipher. His muse turned demon.

He didn't dare tell anyone about the Journal page that he couldn't remember writing. Stanley would think he was going crazy, and he might try to stop the work on the portal. That couldn't happen — they had to finish the portal. The more Ford thought about it, the more frustrated he became with his inability to remember why he was frustrated, and the more sure he became that finishing the portal would jog his memory. Did they need to banish Bill to the other side of the portal? Did they need to find someone inside that could stop him? Stop him from what? Ford knew Bill was bad news, but try as he might, he couldn't remember why!

In his unease, Ford wrote vague Journal entries warning future readers to stay awake and trust no one. Or maybe he was warning himself. But why did he need to warn anyone about anything? They were going to finish the portal. Whatever Bill was up to, they would stop it.

Right?

Lee quickly picked up on his brother's anxious mood. He asked what was wrong, but Ford couldn't explain. He didn't know how. "I'm fine, Stanley," he would insist. He knew Stanley was unsatisfied with this answer, but he had no idea how to express his real feelings.

He didn't know what his real feelings were.

Months passed. The portal was finally ready come August, and Ford's impatience to open it only increased. One night, Lee was trying to convince him to stop for the night, to go to sleep, to look at the project with fresh eyes in the morning. Ford refused. Impulsively, he threw the fuel engagement lever, and pushed the button to open the portal.

That night, he inadvertently started the gravitational anomalies.

Fidds went to sleep immediately after the first anomaly, which annoyed Ford plenty. Wasn't anyone going to watch over the machinery and make sure the anomalies didn't destroy it? Eventually, Lee abandoned him for sleep as well. Ford stayed in the basement, too keyed up to sleep, and watched over the machinery.

Lee and Fidds discovered him the next morning, writing in one of his Journals about his experiences with the anomalies. "Ford?" said Lee, sounding worried. "Did you sleep?"

"I wouldn't have been able to fall asleep with these anomalies," Ford replied curtly. "Now come on — we need to do last minute checks to make sure everything is running smoothly when the portal opens."

He glanced up at the timer. Still ten hours to go. Why did it have to take so long?

The day dragged on. Anomalies interrupted their work, and Ford's impatience grew. Lee tried to calm him down, but to no avail.

Even Fidds seemed to be on Lee's side. "Remember, Stanford, this is just our first test. We shouldn't get ahead of ourselves."

"I know that," Ford said tersely. "Now, is that gauge functioning properly?"

Some part of him knew he was out of line, that the portal wasn't more important than his relationships with his brother and his friend. But it was a small part of him, and his anxieties smothered it out of awareness. Finally, the portal would open. Finally, he'd remember what he'd forgotten. Nothing could get in the way of that.

The hours creaked on. How did it feel like the months had gone so quickly since that confusing day in May, yet the seconds went so slowly on this single day in August? Ford wanted to scream and throw things across the room. Of course, that would do far more harm than good, so instead he threw himself into his work. Don't watch the clock, he told himself. Just focus on the final inspections.

Lee wasn't much help. He seemed to get underfoot more than anything. A few times, he mentioned that he would go make them some breakfast, then some lunch, then some dinner — but Ford and Fidds always shouted him down. No, Stanley, who knows what the gravitational anomalies would do with the heat of the oven! You could burn the house down!

So Lee stayed in the basement, his shoulders hunched with the tension of Ford's heightened sensitivity. Neither scientist asked him for help; neither trusted anyone else to do their work. Instead of doing anything remotely helpful, Lee simply had to worry that everyone in town was doing okay with these gravitational anomalies. He wondered how far these anomalies spread. Was the entire country dealing with random spurts of wonky gravity? Was the entire world?

"Lee, go grab the harnesses," Ford finally instructed. "They should be back in the lab. We don't want to get sucked into the portal before we're ready."

Oh, finally, something to do. Lee left the basement and was shocked to find the light of an afternoon sun pulsing through a nearby window. Had it been that long?

He made it back to the lab with some difficulty, considering that gravity had gleefully decided this was a wonderful time to throw him onto the far wall, and he spent quite some time searching for the harnesses. Then he headed back to the basement, waiting to board the elevator until just after a gravitational anomaly, in hopes that it would increase the chances of his making it down safely. Wouldn't want to get stuck in there forever, like in The Twilight Region.

Ford wasn't very grateful. "What took you so long?"

Lee stared at him incredulously. "Oh, I don't know, I think someone made gravity go all weird. Hard to walk through your own house when stuff is flying around!"

Ford raised an eyebrow, probably at Lee referring to the lab as his "own house", but Lee wasn't going to correct himself. He'd lived here for an entire year now, so it might as well be his.

"If you want, I could go back up there and get us some—"

"You'll burn the house down," Fidds immediately said.

"I wasn't going to cook anything! Just make some sandwiches! We haven't eaten all day!"

"You'll make a mess," Ford replied. "Surely you can go one day without food."

Lee scowled at him. Of course he could — he'd been homeless, remember? But that didn't mean he liked to go hungry, especially if it was by choice.

Too bad. Lee may have lived here for a while, but it was still Ford's house. Ford's house meant Ford's rules. They were all going hungry today.

Per Ford's instruction, Lee set up the harnesses, but both Ford and Fidds checked his work — then redid it. Why even bother asking him, huh?

But Ford was too anxious to not check everyone's work a million times. This had to go perfectly — whatever this was. He didn't entirely know what he was preparing for, so he prepared all the harder. It made him feel safe, made him feel ready.

"What the plan, Sixer?" asked Lee. "What are we going to do when that thing opens?" By then, they were all in the portal room, safely in their harnesses. Across the room, the portal whirred, casting a stark white light over the basement.

"We'll go in, tethered by the harnesses, and scope out what's on the other side," Ford said, as nonchalantly as if they were going to an amusement park. His mannerisms betrayed his nervousness, though, and he walked stiffly across the room to an internal control station. The harnesses were connected to ropes that allowed the men a considerable range of motion. Ford typed a command into the computer, entered it, and looked over his shoulder as the control switch hissed as its top flipped open. Fidds, standing by it, pushed the large red button that was now visible.

Ford made his way to the center of the room. "Good thinking with this failsafe, Fiddleford," he commented mildly. "We wouldn't want the portal to open and the anomalies to be too strong to shut it down."

"Th-thanks. I, uh, had a feeling we might need it." Fidds had had no such feeling, of course. Bill had ordered the failsafe for unknown reasons — and Fidds couldn't help but feel a bit betrayed that his lord hadn't warned him about the gravitational anomalies.

No matter, he told himself. He would get his reward soon enough. Fidds fingered the stun gun that was hidden in his tweed jacket and wondered when he should use it. Soon, probably.

Across the room, Lee glanced up at the clock. Still three minutes. "So, do we just ride the Wacky Gravity Train until this thing opens?" he asked.

"We wait for a zero gee anomaly and go investigate," Ford replied. "Perhaps we'll be able to go in before the timer runs out."

No way. Fidds would shoot both the brothers before either of them got near the portal. No one was going to enter before Fidds did. It was his—

The portal let out a deep groan of otherworldly proportions. Gravity flipped.

Lee let out a yell of surprise. Ford and Fidds instinctively grabbed onto the control switch as gravity pulled them to the portal. This anomaly was strong, and Ford was glad for the added security of the control switch as well as his harness.

Stanley, however, fell toward the portal.

His harness caught him, wrenching the air from his lungs. He hung there in the air, trying to recover his breath, as Ford yelled his name. "Are you okay?"

He didn't have enough air to say that he was fine.

The anomaly dragged on interminably. Lee stared into the gaping white jaws of the portal as his harness dug into his abdomen, the rope creaking under his weight. Ribbons of color danced around the portal's nexus, hungrily awaiting their victim.

"Stanley! Try to make your way to me!"

"Ford, I don't think this switch can hold all of our weight. He's fine, the harness will—"

Snap!

Lee's weight was too much. Or the anomaly was too strong. Or the rope had been fraying to begin with. Or all of the above. The rope snapped.

Lee plunged into the white abyss.