You shook your head to try and clear your thoughts. You had to focus on how to eliminate Bill while you had the chance. If he was allowed to leave Stan's mindscape, you feared to think of the 'deal' he would fulfill. Losing the shack would become a minor problem if his hell was unleashed.

"Sure there's plenty of memories of Stan bossing me around, can't wait to see more of that," Dipper mumbled to himself.

You nudged him with your elbow. "C'mon, we gotta find the code before Bill does. You can gripe about this later."

He sighed but didn't say anything. And they said Robbie was emo.

The group eventually split up and opened any doors they caught sight of, trying to find something relevant. You stopped at a weakened wooden one, the faded paint reading "618" as though it was a classroom number. You hesitantly turned the rather cold and rusty knob, earning a squeak as the door opened.

The memory was a startling opposite to the rest of the mindscape, full of summery light and warmth. It seemed to be a normal day in high school for Stan, chatting with a couple of other equally rough boys in the front of the room. But the memory subconsciously turned your attention towards a couple in the very back, a brunette boy and a Hispanic girl. Although you couldn't see their faces, they were both reading from the same book. The girl stifled a laugh, her braided hair bouncing slightly. She pushed a strand out of the way with her left - no, it wasn't a hand.

You blinked, trying to process what you were seeing. The girl had no left hand, instead, her arm simply stopped at the wrist. A sweater sleeve quickly covered it up, and soon the two were once again engrossed in the book. Her boyfriend hesitantly put his arm around her shoulders, making it both adorable and awkward. She playfully nudged it, and your eyes grew even wider as you noticed the extra finger on his hand. "You don't need to ask every time you do that, Stanford."

The six-fingered man was named Stanford? You squinted, deep in thought. That's what Dipper's great uncle was called, but last you checked, he had a normal ten fingers in all. This had to be more than a coincidence. Your eyes flicked from the young Stan up front to the other Stan. Excluding the obvious finger count, they had an identical athletic body type and deep brown hair.

Other doors suddenly swung open from behind, only feeding your dread. Playing in the movie-like memory, not just one, but two young children explored a wrecked boat. Within its aligned door, a broken swingset swayed along the beach. Lastly, a grown Stan watched in despair as his double was helplessly sucked into a blinding white vortex. A worn leather journal was the only sign he was ever there - a journal with a six-fingered insignia.

The nerdy Stanford in the memory you were in turned his head to give an embarrassed smile to his girlfriend, and his facial features matched the other's perfectly. The shock you had felt before was nothing compared to the paralyzing wave that engulfed you now as your mind made the connection.

Stan Pines had a twin brother: the author of the journals and the creator of the portal.

You stumbled out of the memory, the doors around you all slamming shut of their own accord. It seemed too ludicrous to be true; a twin brother? But the more you thought, the more it made sense. Who else could've built a multi-dimensional right under the noses of his peers? Who else could've written a complete account of the oddities of this strange town?

You sunk to your knees as you tried to take all this in at once, thoughts racing around your head a million miles per hour. Why would Stan hide something like this? You could only trust he had a good reason for keeping something so major quiet.

Despite your accidental discovery, you couldn't let it outweigh your original mission - not now, at least. Whether Stan had secrets or not, there would be no chance of sabotaging Weirdmageddon if you let Gideon get his hands on the shack. You had to simply rub it off until you figured out what to do with this unintended piece of information. Perhaps you needed to confront it to the others...

Shaking your head, you carefully got to my feet and made your way to the main hall. There you once more met with vibrantly clad brunette, catching up to her pace as you walked in alignment. She lightly lifted her head as she shot you a curious glance, an eyebrow raising to her forehead.

"Y/N, are you okay? You look like you've seen Stan in short shorts," Mabel weakly joked at your ashy complexion, only for your eyebrows to quirk subconsciously.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Those doors weren't important," you lied, praying your poker face would sell it. Much to your relief, Mabel casually shrugged it off with a hum, before her gaze transitioned back to front of her.

Before long you ran into Soos, watching as he kicked a colorless door in agitation. "We've been searching forever! What if the triangle guy finds the memory before we do?" he said, eyeing the both of us with concern.

"Well if we wanna find Stan's memory, we gotta think like Stan. He's always hiding stuff, right?" she tapped on her chin in thought.

You winced slightly at her question. She really had no idea.

"Oh!" she chirped as her eyes widened in realization. "Like how he hides his arrest warrants under that rug in the gift shop?" Her eyes travelled to a faded rug, sprinting over to it. She kneeled downwards as she flung it away to reveal a hidden trapdoor. It took only a quick check to see if this was truly the right one. Although the numbers were hard to make out, it was clearly Stan punching in a combination. This had to be it.

"Alright!" The dream boys struck a pose in victory. "But what do we do now?" the two said in perfect harmony.

"I say we destroy it, before that demon ever finds it." You grabbed the nearest available weapon - a battle ax from a convenient suit of armor - and held it high over your head, ready to destroy it.

"W-Wait!" Soos cried out, holding his chubby hand out to stop you.

You quickly rose both of your eyebrows, hesitantly lowering the axe. "What is it?!"

"Maybe I should do it! My big fat arms are great at destroying stuff!" He fidgeted with his hands nervously, almost as though he was afraid he wasn't selling it. You squinted in examination at him the moment the light shone directly into his eyes, and for a second, they seemed almost cat-like...

Oh, wait. Metamorphosis.

Your brows dropped into a stern frown as realization washed over you, and you swiftly hefted the axe over your shoulder. "Not this time, Bill Cipher," you said with as much hostility you could muster. Before he could react, you swung it down with all your might, shattering the memory in a million shards, as though it was a delicate mirror.

"NO, NO, NO!" he cried out, shaking his hands in defense. The longer the "handyman" stared down the broken memory, his usual cheerful expression twisted into a dangerous sneer, sending chills down your spine. Soos' form abruptly blurred, twisting itself into a livid young man in a black tailcoat. Cracks appeared within his body, making him seem like a life size mosaic.

He angrily expressed himself with his gloved hands. "You can't even imagine what you just cost me! Do you have any idea what I'm like..."

Bill crumbled and descended to the ground, reforging into a glowing, red version of himself.

"... when I'm MAD?!"