Light.

It was as if the stars themselves had infused into him. He was the light, he was the very star within the blanket of the sky that everyone looked up to. He was made of stardust and tears, combined in a dark sky. He was flying, racing across fields. He didn't need to wait or limp any longer.

Dark.

It was as though the shadows had infected him. He was the darkness, he was the sky that surrounded the bright and shiny stars. He was made of gloom and smiles, mixed up in a concealed room. He was sneaking, figure slim and moving fluidly. He didn't need to stop and wait any longer.

In between.

Nothing was truly one or the other. He stopped to get tugged to one side and then immediately whipped to the other. He was made of stardust and smiles, an in-between that only a few could reach. He could fly and sneak at the same time. He could run and move like water itself.

Voices were hard to hear.

Everything was underwater and yet he was uncontent. He did not want to be below water. Everything was messy and everything was horrible and yet, he couldn't bring himself to want it in the slightest. He wanted everything crisp and nice. And good. And final and good so he could be happy.

If things ended, then how could he make sure that they were okay?

He could feel it. The familiar pain of old age, accompanied by a gray muzzle and other lighter features. His eyes had dulled over the moons as though tired of watching everything happened. The world continued to turn and he just felt left behind.

Everything continued to slip by him.

Cats died and he could no longer see them. But it didn't matter, not anymore it didn't. Their bodies were long forgotten, and yet, only by him. Cats would be upset and he would have no idea why. The only thing that his mind was stuck on was—

Lyra had died, too. But did she matter if everything was fading for him?

Everything was in a haze, concealed as though he was never meant to know it in the first place. Everything that happened after that one day was hazy, and everything before that one day, save for a few incidents, too was hazy. But he wanted to know. And yet, he couldn't.

Then who would learn the secrets of the world?

That was not for him to know, and he was upset about that.

He craved knowledge, awareness, intelligence. He wanted to know what was going on. Because if something was wrong, then he wanted to fix it. But when everything was speeding past him and memories became blurrier and blurrier, he felt like he was the one who was suffering from the secrets.

It wasn't like he had the secrets. He had access to them, but could not reach them.

Salem became a full member, and so did Wasari — the two toms flashed into his head like a bolt of lightning, like something suddenly unforgotten. The two grew up to be strong and powerful members of the rogue group, and new kits were even born, too.

And yet, they regarded him like a stone.

Almost everyone did. Almost. Tawn's memory popped up in his skull, surrounded by light and warm colors, and Nova was swift to follow. A tall and slim she-cat, whose name he could not recall, walked toward him within his skull, fluidly moving like the water itself.

All the new kits thought he was scary.

"He never talks! And he's so old," they'd exclaim where they think that he couldn't hear him. "He's gotta be super deaf or something. He forgets everything all the time and never bothers to even say hello to his friends! I mean, he doesn't have any. He just sits there!"

He didn't want to be scary.

But it wasn't his fault, was it? He tossed blame like it was a mossball, not wanting it to land on him for too long in case it was deemed his. And yet, somehow, it felt like it always fell back down onto him.

Everything around him pressed in closer. The voices from before flashed back, bright and notable within the watery world he was trapped in. The tom tried to breathe and yet, he couldn't.

"...come on..."

That voice felt closer than the rest.

It was soft, ever pleasant and nice as though it was coaxing him to do something. But whatever it was, he couldn't do it. He couldn't hear, he couldn't speak. His eyes were open but he could barely even see the world; it was simplified into shapes and colors.

He could see a few moving shapes around him and could only assume them to be cats.

But who were they? He would never be able to answer that. He tried to move his head down onto his paws and struggled to do so, a raggedy exhale coming from his figure as he waited for something else to happen. Maybe someone would help him. He didn't know why everything hurt so much.

He didn't want things to hurt as much as they did, but he had no way of stopping it.

The tom craved control and he felt powerless. It was as though the world was still shifting under his paws and shaking and crying like it needed help and he could do nothing to stop it. He was weak, shivering and shaking under the weight of the water all around him.

"...don't...need you here..."

It sounded almost familiar. He tried to move his head to spot whoever was speaking but only found blobs of color that were growing less and less coherent. Everything seemed to slow down more and more as he laid his head back down.

"...close your... please..."

He didn't know what he was supposed to do, but the world was growing blurrier. He wondered briefly if he should try to do something else and yet, the exhaustion and pain that continued to sweep over him was too strong.

And then he closed his eyes.

Bright light flashed behind his vision and a white-hot pain flickered through him like a lightning bolt. Suddenly, every feeling at once surrounded him, pressing closer and closer and closer. He gasped as though he was awake, but nothing changed. Dark and bright lights suddenly flickered in the distance.

Everything was so harsh. The colors morphed into neons and things far too bright for a world that he had thought he'd turned away from. Everything was bright, dark, in the middle. Everything was everything at once. The walls continued to press in, harshly surrounding him.

He was everything and nothing at once. He was a speck of dust, he was the very sky itself. He was nothing and everything. He was the water of the rivers, he was the heat of the sun. He was small, weak, tiny against the walls that pressed in. He was strong as he burst free.

At once, everything was quiet. There was nothing. He was in an empty space, lost in darkness surrounded by walls of silence. There was nothing there. He was the only thing in a world where it was dark. There was nothing, there was nobody.

A small snap sounded, and then noises returned and so did light and so did dark and everything was back. His dark eyes flew open, and he felt lighter as he blinked twice. He was watching a blurry and a pale figure in front of him, a spectator to the world below. Everything was hazy, still, but he could figure it out.

He was watching himself.

The figure beside him let out a cry and yet, they immediately rose to their paws as they raced out of the den. It was clear what had happened, he knew, as he peered down to his paws and saw stars within them.

No.

He was gone. How? He hadn't solved everything, he had so much more to do. He had to try to understand why everything was so blurry, he had to try to help cats who were struggling. He had to try to figure out other things.

He needed more time, he couldn't go yet. He still had to try to walk around the territory, he had to find Finchtansy still. Panic swirled up within him and he turned around, and the tom found that he could walk upward.

And so he did.

He sprinted up and up and up until he was in the sky, simply hovering as though his paws were on the ground. His dark eyes flitted around and he could see the world below him, and he tried to inch closer to it, but he was trapped in an invisible box.

I need to get down there!

He couldn't go, not now. It was too early. He had so much more time left back there and he could do so many more things if he just had more time. He wanted, no, needed, more time. The tom exhaled in a shaky and panicked breath, trying desperately to get down.

"Adderheart?"

The voice, like a sharp knife through the soft cloth of silence, made him stop and after a brief pause of panicked re-settled silence, he turned around and faced the cat.

There was Pantherleap.

"You're here," he spoke again.

Adderheart rocked slightly on his paws. "I need more time," he whispered. "Please tell me... please say. Say I have more time."

Pantherleap stepped forward and the stars in his pelt seemed to glow brighter. "You don't have more time."

"No—!"

"But you don't need it."

Pantherleap inched even closer and blinked, and Adderheart could see starry tears hidden within his gaze. Behind the tears flashed all sorts of emotions. His loneliness, wishing for a cat to love, his sadness, wishing that his mate could be happy.

And yet, here he was, still wanting to go back to the rogues.

"I want—"

"You don't need it," he said quietly. "You spent your time there. And now it's time for you to join the rest of us."

His tail swished and behind him lay tons and tons of cats, all lined up. The ones in the back were taller, stronger, wiser, yet blurrier and faded. And the ones in the front were smaller, with tiny figures and even tinier paws.

Light swirled around them as though they were being transformed and the tom could only watch as the group stepped forward in unison. Yet, a single cat wove through the crowd, and he spotted the pale brown-furred she-cat immediately.

He didn't know who she was, but it was clear that the shiny-furred she-cat knew who he was. Her figure was slightly blurry and forgotten, and yet, it was evident that someone was holding onto her. Someone was remembering her.

"Doepool." Her voice was slippery sweet, slipping from her maw as though it was honey. "A victim of Cougarstar's errors overtime. He threw me and my kits out after hurting us, and we all died."

"I'm—"

"Don't," she said, reaching forward with her muzzle. "You needn't spend time on things long passed. Don't worry about me or my kits," she murmured, flickering her tail at a litter behind her, who smiled. "Focus on right now."

Her nose touched his forehead and at that moment, he felt calm. Nothing was his issue. Nothing that he had left behind was big enough for him to worry about. He was stardust, floating in space as though he was waiting for something to happen.

It was bright again but in a good way. Like how things had been when he'd first been alone with Pantherleap. Doepool dipped her skull and just like that, she dissipated into the crowd.

Adderheart turned and there was Pantherleap.

The two rushed forward and practically collided into each other, curling their tails tightly together. Burying his head into his fur, Adderheart tried his best to keep himself steady but found that they slowly rocked together as though they never wanted to leave.

And they didn't. For once, Adderheart didn't want to go back. It was okay that he hadn't solved every mystery. It was okay that he didn't know everything. Because he was fine right where he was, with the stars all around him and the light so soft yet so strong.

Right next to Pantherleap.