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"He's an angel. I'm just an old mutt."
That’s what she thought every time she looked at him. He radiated light, his smile bright enough to outshine even the sun. And yet, all she could do was frown. Constantly. Relentlessly. She wore her tough face like armor, a mask meant to deceive.
Pearl isn’t violent, she told herself. She repeated it like a mantra. So why did everyone pretend she was?
“Scarlett Witch and her lousy hounds,” a sneering voice had jeered as she scavenged for materials. The words bit deep, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she scoffed at the insult. At least that lousy dog stayed, she thought bitterly, her fists clenching. A groan escaped her lips as she turned back toward her base, her eyes fixed on the endless horizon ahead.
The days bled together. The wind carried whispers of things unsaid.
“Maybe he’s the dog, and I’m the violent hunter,” she muttered, her voice barely audible against the silence of her empty tower.
It made sense, didn’t it? Scott was loyal. He was loved. Everyone gravitated to him like moths to a flame. Fast, strong, endlessly charming—he had every trait of a faithful dog. And Pearl? She was the huntress. The predator. The one destined to kill him. Even if he was her soulbound. Even if he was hers. She would destroy him, and in doing so, she would destroy herself.
She wished she understood why things had to be this way. Why he had to leave her. They could have been something extraordinary. Together, they could have torn the world apart, burned it all down, and made it something new. They could have been unstoppable.
But Scott treated her like something else entirely. A goddess. A monster. Something to fear, to despise. He made her feel as though her very existence was a threat. That her only purpose was destruction.
The truth was far simpler. Pearl didn’t know what she was doing. Her thoughts spiraled endlessly, dragging her toward madness. She wanted to escape, to claw her way out of the suffocating loneliness. But there was no one there to help her, no hand to pull her free. Just another bitter reminder of how utterly alone she truly was.
“If he thinks I’m some death-defying goddess,” she whispered into the cold night air, “then maybe I should destroy him like one.”
The wind blew softly at first, then louder. A few more days passed, and the quiet became deafening.
“I’m sorry I’m the one you’re bound to,” Pearl murmured to herself, watching Scott and Cleo pass beneath her tower. She didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t mean to. But she did. And then he left.
Why couldn’t she understand? Why couldn’t she let go?
Scott clearly preferred Cleo. She could see it in the way he looked at her, how he smiled so effortlessly in her presence. Why wasn’t he soulbound to Cleo instead? Pearl wondered. She was reckless. A menace. A heartless monster. And if that’s what everyone believed, then maybe they were right.
She thought back to Last Life. Back when she and Scott were teammates. The memory cut deeper than any sword ever could. He had been the best partner she’d ever had. He was Scott, after all. There was no one else like him.
Her mind lingered on the day she realized they were soulbound. She remembered watching him get rammed by a goat and feeling the pain herself. She remembered the joy, fleeting and fragile, before it was replaced by the weight of betrayal. He left her. He abandoned her. And for what? A few scratches? Some damage she couldn’t avoid?
Her anger simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. What was the point of anything if her soulbound couldn’t even stand by her? When he walked away, she should have just let go. She should have died then and there. Maybe the others were right. Maybe she deserved it.
Sitting on the edge of her tower’s roof, tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked them away furiously, unwilling to let the world see her break.
Another day passed, then another. The wind howled now, as if mocking her. She could feel it—her time slipping away. Her hearts ticking down like the hands of a cruel clock.
And then, it happened. The final blow. She felt it before she saw it. Her life flashed before her eyes in a kaleidoscope of pain and regret. They weren’t going to win. They were never going to win.
A day later, she stood beside Scott. Neither of them spoke. The silence between them was heavy, suffocating.
“One day, you’ll figure me out,” she said quietly.
But she knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. No one cared enough to try. No one except Tilly. The only being who ever truly understood her.
Another day passed, and Pearl watched as her enemies met their end. Her hounds tore through them like shadows with teeth. Yet the victory felt hollow. It reminded her of Martyn, how he had blamed her for Cleo leaving him. How the whole server sat in judgment of her, painting her as the violent dog, the wicked scarlet witch.
She thought of the fleeting kindnesses she’d known in other seasons, the allies who had stood by her side. They were all gone now, lost to time and death.
Her thoughts turned to Cleo. Once, she’d wanted nothing more than to destroy her for taking Scott away. But when she finally did, it felt wrong. Empty. Her mind became a void, a temple for the gods above to control.
“You believe me like a god,” she muttered as she watched Scott cradle Cleo’s lifeless body.
He looked up at her then, his face etched with raw, unfiltered pain. He didn’t say a word, but the fear in his eyes spoke volumes.
Her heart shattered. She had hurt him again.
“You all treated me like a violent dog. A witch. A goddess. Something wicked. But all I was... was a hurt and abandoned mutt.”
Her voice broke as tears finally spilled freely.
Scott said nothing. Slowly, he reached into his inventory and pulled something out.
“You treat me like a dog,” Pearl said, her voice trembling with anger and despair.
Scott’s eyes met hers, and for the first time, she saw something she hadn’t expected: regret.
“I betray you like a man,” he whispered, lighting the TNT.
And just like that, it was over.