"I don't get you, KK."
You've heard that one a lot from him. Ever since that first day, on the run. What you don't get is why he listens to you, does what you tell him, even as he doesn't get you.
"You of all trolls, the double-mutant, should be in support of my plan. They don't care about us. Why should we care about them?" Eridan continues, and you know he has a point. Ever since the first time you played with a spark, you knew there was no longer any hope of your safe life on Alternia. But Eridan takes it too far. He's one of "them," and that fact goes unspoken except for moments like this, like when he makes you have to say. You choose not to bring it up, but it lingers between you, as you meet his violet gaze.You consider piping up, reminding him that if he weren't Burnish, he'd be in their shoes, ready to rip you apart for your cherry insides.
The picture of it plays out in front of you, his teeth gnashing into your acid tract, the blood dribbling into his gills. He'd breathe your red shame in, more than happy to serve his Empress that way. Instead, he's turned to hemoequality, the Burnish giving him one thing to wrap his identity around. Some way to feel superior, without having to hate himself for the way his eyes linger on yours.
"Burnish don't kill for no reason," you respond quietly. Again, the flashes of imagery, this time of the great fires, pops its way in. The deaths, the grown trolls screaming for their lusus, their matesprit, even their kismesis as their skin bubbled and flaked off. The aftermath shows itself on some of the faces of the hiveblock you had to depart when your spark came. You think back to your neighbors, the ones who survived but barely. They'll never be able to pretend that they weren't there.
Eridan scoffs. "You saw what they did to TZ. She did nothin'. You know that. But now she's been froze to death, Kar. If that ain't a reason, what is? They don't treat us right."
"We're not like them, Eridan! We don't hurt just because we've been hurt. You think I haven't thought of it? Just torch the town? Kill every single hemonormie out there - your purple ass included?" You widen your eyes at him. "But what good would it do?"
"Revenge, Kar."
"Revenge won't get back Terezi."
"It'll prevent anyone else from hurting like her. We blaze the town, build it new. Fresh. Burnish only, and then we'll all be together. And when it's just Burnish, no one will care that you're a freak. We've all been called freaks." His hand lights up pink, a small flame already building in his excitement. "We'll be the rulers of this world, you and me, Kar. They'll see the power that a mutant like you can have."
"And the innocents?"
"There are no innocents, Kar. Don't you see? They're all living out there with their water cannons, culling anyone different. They don't understand. They want to take us out. It's not an attack - it's self defense."
Your blood pusher starts pounding. He's going to make you do this, isn't he? When will he learn? "'They,' Eridan? 'They?' Who are they, but everyone who was like you? Before your spark, before Burnish, who were you? A pawn to the Empress, and an ugly seadweller dreaming of the day that all the lowbloods do his every wish. You were a prince, once. Now you're nothing but a Burnish, stripped of your title and sent into hiding like the rest of us. You think you have it so bad, but the day they cure Burnish, who's back to the top, and who's on the culling floor?"
"Don't flirt with me at a time like this," Eridan says, a corner of his mouth rising. You hate him. Even when you pity him, you hate him. He's disgusting. Yet, even as you protest his genocidal intent, a certain part of you wants to make it happen.
There's no hope that just being Burnish would convince the trolls to forget about your hemomutation. Yet, a world where there are no normal trolls, where the spark can come out freely, no worries, not of deaths or culling. It entices you, as much as you push the image away. You can see it, Eridan and you standing with the Burnish in front of you, adoring you, hanging onto every word. But no, it's wrong. You mustn't.
"Kar, this is the only way forward. Either we kill them, or they kill us. And yes, matter o' fact, it's 'they' who are different. I've forgotten about blood color, the only thing that matters now is the spark. We'll all be the fuckin' same when we're all Burnish. Don't that mean anythin' to you?" He loops a hand around your neck, and you instinctively begin a warning chitter. A seadwweller, laying his hands next to your blood spout, absolutely not. But it's him. And you pity him. He has so much he wants in this life, so much to do. All for the Burnish. He meets them on the weekends, the others. You've been at home for those meetings, not ready to disclose your other mutation. But he tells you things.
A world with only Burnish; a warm planet with only those you choose. Flames wherever you want. And him, by your side. It's tempting. But is it tempting enough to do what Eridan wants? Has this been his plan all along?
"We can't, Eridan." But your voice faulters. Your ears twitch and droop. "There are too many who aren't responsible."
"What have they been doing this whole time? Waitin' for their buddy at work to be culled as Burnish so they can get a promotion? Reportin' their hivemate so they can get the whole place to themself? It's fuckin' barbarism. They'll never give a shit about us, KK. I stopped givin' a shit about them a long time ago."
You still shake your head.
"The non-Burnish who took TZ's place...you think she'd make the exceptions for you that TZ did? She'd let you keep livin' like you were? Before the Burnish? They have no feelings. We'd be doin' the whole world a favor, lettin' it just be us and the next generation of wigglers. We'll teach 'em right." Your heart sinks at the idea of Terezi being replaced. It's been nearly half a sweep, but you only just now got used to the fact that she's gone. Let alone that legislaceration has to happen without her.
Plus he's right. Terezi understood. She knew what was going on, and she issued you those incorrect documents. She saved you. And now she's gone.
"Fuck, I don't know. It's not right. There's gotta be wigglers out there who don't have anything to do with it." But your voice is wavering, your objections waning.
"Don't think." His voice has hardened. He's beginning to sound again like when you first met him that day, running from the Archeradicators. He had so much hate in his heart, for trolls, for Alternia, for you. He saw your cherry eyes and scratched you, clawed you, before you saved him. You're sure he's not forgiven you for your blood color, even through all his bullshit about equality that he's begun to spout.
He hands you a flame. "Don't think," he repeats. And you stop thinking.
You throw the first tendril out, and your breathing calms down as you watch the first branch catch. Then the next. Then the tree. The forest.
Finally, the hiveblock.
The others gather behind you, and you don't turn to see them, but suddenly the flames are brighter, larger.
Eridan must have known you'd be the hardest to convince.
You take his hand and dig your claws into his palm as you watch the start of the end together.