Oh boy...coming out of darkness to post this very....interesting chapter

We's nearing the end of this loop!!

   ——————-

   Sammy kept his word; a gang of searchers surrounded you as he escorted you back to the Lost Harbor.

   A group of them manned one of the ferry boats, and you followed behind with Sammy and a few others in the next boat. It reminded you of royal escorts, and it would have made you laugh were you not worried sick about the others.

    The projectionist had wandered on his own, probably not wanting to deal with everyone, so it was just you and Sammy. This part of the game had always given you the most anxiety, and you kept looking over your shoulder for the inexplicable hand that threatened to smash into the rickety boat more than once.

   You kept looking back to make sure it wasn't following, to the point where Sammy knew something was causing you to stress.

  "Seer, what sort of unholy monstrosity do you fear?" He asked, turning back for a moment to look at you, but careful not to decelerate the boat's motion.

  You shrugged, walking next to him but still warily glancing over your shoulder. "There's...a hand. It only shows up when the boat's rotators get clogged with ink, and...it just wants to smash boats."

   Sammy nodded quietly. "Yes...well, should the hand appear, there are many who would do anything to protect you, myself included."

   "I know...and thank you. A lot is going on...and a lot has changed since I arrived," you sighed, staring into the inky river. "But...I feel like I've done nothing worthwhile."

  "Do you remember much of the Lost Harbor from the first loop you experienced here, Seer?" Sammy asked, and you took a step back at the sudden question.

   "I...well, not much. I remember that it was a lot of boxes and old pieces of wood stacked together to form houses. But the people there were nice. Despite not remembering who they were, I could tell that they held onto something precious to them, no matter how trivial. Why do you ask?"

  The boats were pulling up at the docs now; after stopping the boat, Sammy stepped off first and then extended a hand to you. "There has been a bit of a shift in the way things are here," was his only answer.

  It didn't take long to see what he meant; now the ramshackle houses were decorated with knick-knacks and old items from around the studio; books from the study were in neat stacks on platforms that could give a lost one some privacy and self-reflection.

  It felt like more of a community; as the lost ones openly approached, they would ask questions about how you were holding up, and a few simply asked if you would please hold their hand, even for a moment.

   Sammy spoke to the lost ones in his persuasive, calming way, and assured them that they were fine, just rattled by what you'd gone through with the fallen Angel.

  "Seer, why not tell us a few stories?" one asked, and you took a step back.

  "What kind of stories do you want to hear?" you asked, looking to Sammy to see if he could help you.

  All he suggested was to share tales of the outside-of scraping your knees, of playing in the rain. Things that the lost ones had so nearly forgotten, so that they might have a hope of knowing the trivial things that are often worth fighting for.

  So you did; telling them about the joys and struggles of working part-time in a small restaurant, of calling up your parents just to tell them you were safe, and moving into an apartment all on your own.

  They soaked in the stories; pressed you for details that you weren't sure you remembered. It was only when you began to yawn excessively that Sammy put a stop to their questions, and led you to a bedroom.

  "Rest, my Seer," he told you, tucking you in to the thin covers. "We will protect you here; so long as this sanctuary stands, you will not be harmed."

  You decided to believe those words; as hope was a hard thing to come by here; believing in redemption and rescue was far more valuable.

   While you slept in a dreamless void, the lost ones played games to see who remembered the most of your tales; and others acted out the scenes you had described. Sammy watched them all, and when Henry arrived, shaken up by the hand in the inky river, he shook his hand and told him it was best not to disturb you.

     Instead, he offered to spar with the ex-animator; explaining that if Henry was more confident in using the various odds and ends around the studio as weapons, the better off you would be. As quietly as they could, the two of them darted around the open square of the Lost Harbor; exchanging feedback and banter as they did.

    But another Angel and her Boris-clone companion did not know of Sammy's alliance with Henry; nor did they know of the Seer under his protection and that of the lost ones.

   So when Henry tripped and fell backward, Tom saw the Prophet, attacking and ready to kill their one hope of making it out of the sepia-toned hellscape.

  Sammy extended a hand to Henry, ready to pull him up. Next thing he knew, there was a dull, throbbing pain in his head where an axe easily hit home. He collapsed to his knees with a heavy groan, collapsing on the floor next to Henry, who looked up at Tom in shock, then to the shack that housed your sleeping form.

  The commotion outside roused you; and upon seeing Sammy on the ground, everything clicked.

  Your grief couldn't be contained; you weren't sure why losing Sammy hurt so bad. But you screamed; it was all you could do. Cradling his head in your hands, and praying to anyone and anything that he wasn't gone. The lost ones and searchers were mad; enraged by the death of their leader; but unlike the game, they didn't attack or seek revenge on Sammy's killer. Instead, they circled you protectively, growling and lashing out if the angel or the Boris clone got too close.

  Henry alone was able to approach you, and at his touch, you turned and clung to him like a lifeline; sobbing into his shoulder for the stranger who had done so much to keep you safe.

    He'd been there in the beginning; he'd kept you away from the ink as much as possible. It was because of Sammy that you were able to be freed from being the Twisted Angel's captive, and he gave you comfort when you lost Boris. He fought to keep you safe, yet you couldn't save him.

   And now, of the ones making up your band of misfits, only Henry and Jack remained. Jack, who still held onto the Nintendo gaming6 system and who drew away from larger groups, now gave Alice and Boris a disapproving shake of his head.

   When you had cried out more tears than one could hold in a lifetime, Henry gently helped you to your feet, although you wobbled more than you'd care to admit. He didn't say a word to his companions; only making sure that you were okay. As this new group began to explore, you held onto Jack's hand; sparing Boris an untrusting glare that rivaled even his own. You didn't trust them not to hurt Jack; in fact, you couldn't even trust them with Henry.

   Then Henry fell, and while you saw it happen, there was nothing Alice or Boris could do to make you wait with them. Jack seemed to share your sentiment, and so the two of you jumped together; with Jack moving around you to shield your body from the impact.

  This led the three of you to the administrator's rooms, and in the large empty room, the three of you finally managed to have a moment to think.

  "...how are you holding up Kiddo?" Henry asked softly, sitting down on a worn-out couch. You sat beside him, mind still reeling from everything.

  "Not too well...why did they ruin it? Will Sammy remember me next loop?" You asked, fearfully. You knew it was an outcome that was more likely than not, and you dreaded to see him again next loop.

  "I...I don't want to have to convince him all over again..." you whispered, drawing your knees to your chest.

  Jack made a few whining noises; doing his best to comfort you. But there was little comfort; you all knew the harsh reality of this place.

  "I know...this has set us back a bit in getting everyone free. But...we're together, alright? You, me, and Jack. The original three. We'll find a way to get Sammy back on our side, alright?"

  You nodded slowly, then looked at the hallway in which the butcher gang roamed. While playing the game, they were a nuisance to avoid and you couldn't get hit more than three times before dying.

  Now, you weren't sure which former employees of Joey Drew Studios were changed into the butcher gang members, but right now you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

   "Hey, I've got an idea for dealing with the butcher gang," you said, gritting your teeth. "I'm not going to run. You might have lost your axe, but we can find something to use as a weapon."

    Henry looked around the room, but there weren't a lot of items they could use; just a flower pot.

  That wasn't going to be good enough for you. So, you took the flower pot off the table and flipped it over, pressing a foot against one of the legs to get it to break off.

   Jack caught on sooner than Henry did, and threw his weight at another one of the legs; it fell off easily and your table leg was soon to follow.

   Henry looked at the two of you and sighed, picking up Jack's table leg as it was offered to him.

   "Alright," you said, voice slightly hoarse from all the crying you'd done. "We have to get the pipe parts to fix some weird section on the wall, right?"

  Henry nodded; this part of the loop, like all others, were tasks he could do in his sleep if needed.

    "Navigating that area is going to be interesting. The butcher gang members are relentless," he sighed. "What sort of plan do you have to keep them at bay?"

   You chuckled, holding your table leg like a baseball bat. "Funny you should ask."