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Higgs woke to the memory of water played back too many times.
He drew in air to his lungs. Everything was bright in a washed-out way, gray tones painting the horizon. It made the whole place look like it was backlit. His hand shifted in the sand and felt its warmth, its softness. A golden spark glimmered under his fingers, but it disappeared before he could reach for it.
He sat up, still disoriented from the whole thing.
His entire gear was gone, even his boots—only a black shirt clinging to his chest, pants he didn’t remember putting on. His armor removed; the act nonexistent. It made his skin crawl.
The concept of Beaches wasn't new to him. He had visited a few, enough to know their purpose. Something on this one, though, evoked a feeling of dread inside of him. It felt like an omen.
Out in the distance, he spotted her.
Glint’s back was to the vast expanse behind her, knees pulled to her chest. Her hair waved with the surrounding wind. He got the feeling she’d been sitting there for a long time, if her posture was anything to go by.
Higgs stood completely, brushing his hands off automatically, though there was nothing on them. The trace of his steps faded automatically. This place had no interest in his presence, but who had, anyway? He walked toward her with no hurry; she’d never been eager to see him. When he got close, her shoulders moved an inch.
“This your Beach?” he heard himself say.
She kept looking at the horizon.
Confused, he dropped beside her. The motion felt easier than it should’ve been. “Figured it’d be uglier.”
“Most of it is,” she muttered. “You’re just not looking far enough.”
He took that as a challenge.
The right side of her face was a mess. The entire eye socket was gone, replaced by a chiralium coating—hardened into shape. It looked fused into her. From that ruin, the scars spread—Lichtenberg figures etched in gold. They went down her jaw and throat, spreading across her collarbone in lines that shimmered when she breathed.
Glint wasn’t fragile, not even close. He’d seen the real version before: shaking, wrapped in her own cables. Under his thumb, under hers. But here? Here she looked free of it. Nothing to haunt her anymore. He couldn’t decide if it made her beautiful or dangerous.
Funny, how she had the gall to taunt him for his name—his purpose—when her own was a mock reminder of her condition. He took great pleasure in the sick thought that destiny had given her a piece of its mind. Who’s laughing now?
Her short hair kept rocking when the phantom breeze passed, brushing her jaw. He had the urge to reach out, just once, to see if the strands felt real against his fingers. “Guess you’re lookin’ better dead than alive.”
“Do you always talk this much when you’re confused?”
He grinned. “Keeps the dread away.”
He dropped his gaze to his hands. They were whole here—flesh, not tar. The old scars were there. He flexed his fingers, watching the tendons shift, joints creak. When was the last time he did this? It felt wrong, almost like remembering a body that wasn’t his anymore. He turned them over, palms up. For a moment, he swore he could feel warmth in them.
“This a dream?”
Her cheek rested against her knees. “Feels wrong enough to be.”
“...You pull me here?”
She turned her head. “If I did, would I admit it?”
He huffed. “Been thinkin’ about me again, huh?”
“...This is starting to feel like a nightmare.”
“Ain’t shocked, honestly. We’re not exactly friends.” He dug his hands into the sand, grounding him. “Half the time you look like you wanna rip my head off.”
“I might still do it.”
“Might? Goin’ soft on me, Glint?”
She lifted one brow. “I’m still deciding.”
That made him laugh for real. He turned his head enough for him to catch the way the water stopped short of her toes.
Glint shifted slightly beside him, uncurling a bit. “I’ve thought about killing you before.”
Damn. Talk about being blunt.
“Yeah? Get in line.”
“Just a fact, Higgs. Not a threat.”
“Most honest thing anyone’s said to me all week.”
“Do you ever get tired of playing the villain?” she asked, annoyance in her tone.
He looked at her. “Y’ever get tired of pretending you’re not just like me?”
Her mouth shifted into something like a scowl. “I’m not like you.”
“Yeah, you are,” he said. “Just slower on the descent.”
“I still believe in something.”
“Yeah? How’s that treatin’ you?”
She looked away.
Higgs leaned back, eyes on the horizon. The waves came and went. He felt his mouth loosen. “No one really knows where I started. Just what I turned into,” he stated, retreating his palms from the sand to rub them, uncomfortable. “But I wasn’t born like this, y’know.”
She turned her head a little, letting him keep going if he wanted to.
“I grew up inside a shelter. Thought that was it, really. The whole world.” His expression got colder. “Old man didn’t like questions. He’d beat the shit out of me if I even looked at the door too long.”
“I killed him,” he continued, like stating something like that was the most normal thing in the world. “One day I just… couldn’t take it anymore. He came at me, I had a knife.” He stared down at the sand. “Watched him rot. Didn’t know what necrosis was, not really. Took the body outside, and that’s when they came.”
“The BTs?”
He nodded. “Felt them before I saw them. Thought I was dyin'. Turns out, I was just fuckin' waking up.”
He dug his hands in the sand again. “Porter life after that. Carried medicine. Bodies, too. Thought maybe working meant I was worth somethin’. One day… I couldn’t save the next poor bastard. Saw the voidout. Whole mountain went black. And I knew.” He shrugged. “Caring’s a bad habit. Hurts like hell when it ends.”
Her voice was solemn. “So you stopped?”
He looked at her. “You think I didn’t try to be good? Tried till it hurt. But it kept comin’ back empty.”
She looked down, avoiding his gaze. “You still believe in something. Otherwise you’d be gone for good.”
He smiled without warmth. “You really think I’ve got anything left worth believin’ in?”
“I think… you want someone to see you. Just once. Without the mask.”
He huffed out a sound that could’ve been a laugh. “God, you always ruin the mood with the sentimental bullshit.”
The waves reached both their ankles now.
“If you could go back,” she murmured, “before all this—would you change anything?”
He stared at the water. “...Nah. That kid’s gone. Died with the old man.”
Glint gave him a small nod.
Higgs leaned forward, eyes on their hands—close, but not touching. Too close for his rational mind. Subconsciously, though, that was another story.
“Feels strange,” he muttered.
The edge of her eye socket caught the light. “...Everything does.”
He shook his head. "Nah. I mean... this quiet. Us. Not tryin' to kill each other. Don't remember the last time I sat still next to somebody who wasn't scared of me."
"Who says I’m not?"
He laughed softly. “Smart enough to be. I’ll give you that.”
The tide kept coming. This fucking silence was making him go crazy—couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand not having background noise to distract himself with. Couldn’t stand how something inside his chest had broken open under her gaze, feelings pouring out like water from a dam. It made him feel small. He had to do something quick, or else he would be done for.
His eyes were haunted by the shadow of his usual cynicism once more, act back in place. He couldn’t afford being human now.
“Can I tell you a story?” Glint asked carefully.
He stayed silent, watching her closely. Waiting. It seemed he wasn’t the only one folding under pressure.
“You know I was a researcher once.” She glanced briefly at him, catching his small nod. “Worked at Middle Knot. My team, we studied anomalous tether theory. Chirality, connections… chasing questions no one knew how to answer. Thought we were close to something.”
Her missing eye throbbed faintly, phantom pain sharpening her thoughts.
“It was supposed to be a routine sample collection. So they sent me, nothing special. I loved being out there, losing myself in the vast expanse.” Her voice tightened. “The storm caught me off-guard, surrounded by BTs. Panic sets in.”
“A bolt of lightning hit me, right here.” Her fingertips caressed the gold bumps surrounding the scar. “It knocked me out instantly. I still don’t know how much time passed, but I woke up sick. The ground beneath me was golden. Chiralium, we ended up concluding. Ironic, isn't it?”
She gave him a bitter laugh. “My colleagues found it fascinating, so I became their pet project overnight. A curiosity, rather than a person.” Her gaze hardened, now fixed on the endless horizon. “Eventually, we made a major breakthrough in our field and that’s when we built my decontamination system. So my new spine was installed, along with the cables. They said I was lucky to survive.”
“Lucky,” he repeated.
“But I fucking hated it. I hated their pity. I hated how they looked at me like I was a broken thing they didn’t know how to fix.” She blinked hard, but no tears came. “So I left. My research, my team. Everything. I went into hiding, tried to disappear. Thought isolation would help.”
He didn’t bother trying to offer her hollow comforts. “Funny. We’re always left pickin' up the pieces, ain't we?”
She kept going. “Do you know how difficult it is to live with this condition? Chiral contamination, it’s a relentless poison. Nightmares, constant sickness. You feel it in your bones. Your mind starts to slip. I thought ending myself might be a mercy. Almost did it, too.”
God, didn’t he know. “Almost?”
She stared at the waves. “... Couldn’t do it.”
“Mmh. Mercy kills don’t solve much. I’ve handed out enough to know.”
Suddenly, her hand found his, fingers curling softly. Higgs felt his breath hitch at the gesture. He hadn’t been touched like this in god knows how long. Something primal inside of him missed it, although he wouldn’t admit it out loud.
“If I asked you to kill me,” she said, “would you do it?”
He blinked once. Glint had a way of surprising him that no one else did. “Only if you meant it.”
“I would.”
“Then it wouldn’t be a kill,” he stated. “It’d be mercy.”
“...Not today,” she whispered.
His eyes never left her. “Tomorrow’s full of maybes.”
She gave him that look—the one that always felt like a hundred scalpels. “...You’d enjoy it, wouldn’t you?”
He almost smiled. “I’d make it hurt.”
Glint leaned back and pulled her hand with her. Way to go, Higgs.
“This—” she motioned between them “—it’s not real. You want to be seen, but only if no one touches what’s underneath. I give you that for a second, and you spit it back in my face.”
He raised his head. Back on familiar ground. “Like you’re any better.”
“At least I don’t lie about what I am.” Sand jerked beneath her steps as she stood up. “I could ask you to stay. God help me, I want to. But you’d ruin it. You always ruin it. Just to feel like you’re in control.”
“I’d ruin it,” he answered quietly, “because I wouldn’t know how to keep it.”
Silence filled the space between them.
“I could’ve—I could've helped you,” she muttered, like it wasn’t meant to escape.
His mouth opened, then closed. He hadn’t expected that. Did she really feel that way? Could’ve, though. Something mean bloomed inside. “Well. Could’ve. Should’ve. Don’t mean shit now.”
Her righteousness was pure ice. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”
“And yet,” he leaned back on his hands, eyes turned up to the empty sky, “Here we are.”
She looked like she wanted to hit something. Him. The ground. Herself.
“I hope you remember this,” she said, voice steady. “When it’s quiet. When no one’s watching. I hope it haunts you.”
Every step Glint took away from him echoed against the absence of noise on the Beach. As she disappeared into that endless gray, something twisted hard in his gut. Whatever had transpired between was now buried under layers of wrath. Good. Better that way.