Steven could see himself floating in midair in his pink form. Ever since that conversation with Garnet, he felt more at ease. Garnet stopped by every now and then, mostly keeping an eye on Peridot, who always seemed on edge.
I kept close, though. I had no idea where she was hiding the Diamond communicator, so I had to stay sharp, even if I doubted she'd use it before the Cluster.
Steven opened his eyes, looking over at Lapis, who was sitting next to him playing Minecraft.
"Did you beat the game yet?" Steven asked, lowering himself down to the roof, having been hovering right above it.
"Beat the game?" Lapis asked, confused. "You can beat it?"
...
Steven didn't say anything and dropped to the ground, wanting to check on their progress with the Cluster.
"Hey! Don't just leave me hanging!" Lapis called out as she flew down and walked alongside Steven, though she noticed him staring intently at the chalkboard.
"Huh?" Lapis grunted, glancing over the equations and rough sketches of a drill.
"Boring," she said, hovering back up toward the roof.
Steven just stared at a few of the equations. He understood them, but he noticed that at a certain point they shifted, blending in complex physics and advanced math.
"What's wrong?" Pearl asked, approaching from behind a solid sheet of iron.
"Nothing," Steven said, keeping his eyes on the chalkboard.
He stood there for a few more seconds in silence, analyzing those equations that just didn't quite add up to him. He didn't say a word. Closing his eyes for a moment, he let out a quiet sigh—not one heavy with burden, just simple exhaustion.
Pearl settled in beside him, crossing her arms with a rigid posture, as if merely standing near the project forced her to maintain complete composure.
"The drill is coming along well," she said carefully, weighing every word. "Peridot has made significant adjustments to the drilling mechanism. It isn't perfect, but it's functional."
Peridot, who was sitting on the ground surrounded by various metal parts, snapped her head up the moment she heard her name. Her visor flashed with a flicker of contained pride.
"Of course it's coming along well," she said, trying to sound confident. "It's drilling technology adapted for an unstable core. It's not like just anyone could pull that off." She lowered her voice slightly. "Though... there is still a margin of error."
Amethyst was leaning against one of the barn walls, chewing on something that probably wasn't food. She watched the scene with a half-smirk, swaying slightly from side to side.
"So, basically... it's not gonna explode too much?" she asked, completely unbothered.
Peridot looked at her in absolute horror.
"It shouldn't explode at all!" she snapped back, waving her hands frantically. "If it explodes, that means we all die, Amethyst!"
"Ah, gotcha," she replied with a shrug. "So business as usual, then."
Pearl closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before speaking again.
"The drill's objective isn't to destroy the Cluster," she explained, her tone calmer now. "It's to get close enough for Steven to intervene. Precision is crucial."
Steven listened to everything without interrupting, leaning back against a wooden beam. His pink form was gone, but the quiet, steady energy remained, almost imperceptible.
"The core is still reacting," Peridot continued, pointing to a few crude diagrams. "It's not moving like it used to, but it's still... conscious. That makes it unpredictable."
Amethyst dropped the jokes for a second, glancing at Steven out of the corner of her eye.
"Hey," she said, her voice softening. "You don't have to do this right now, you know? If you feel like something's off, we can pause."
Steven slowly shook his head.
"No," he answered calmly. "I just want everything to be as solid as possible before we go down. I don't want to improvise down there."
Pearl nodded, instantly understanding.
"Then we will keep adjusting," she said. "No rush. We'll do it right this time."
Peridot went back to focusing on her tools, muttering calculations under her breath, while Amethyst settled back into her relaxed posture, though she kept a watchful eye on Steven.
The atmosphere remained peaceful. No tension, no shouting, no rushing. Just Gems working, talking, existing together.
And for the first time in a long while, Steven felt like everything was moving forward... the way it was supposed to.
Peridot froze for a few seconds, holding a metal part between her hands. She was no longer trembling, but her posture remained stiff, as if she were waiting for something to go wrong at any moment.
Steven walked over slowly and kneeled beside her, careful not to crowd her space.
"What's on your mind?" he asked softly.
Peridot hesitated before answering, her fingers gripping the metal piece tightly.
"It's not the drill," she said, her voice far quieter than usual. "It's... all of this. Earth. The project. You guys." She looked up just a fraction. "If I fail here, there's no Empire backing me up. There's... nothing."
Steven stayed quiet for a moment, truly listening.
"When I got here," Peridot continued, "this planet was just useless mud. Now..." She furrowed her brow. "Now I don't know what it is. And that scares me."
Steven gave a soft, weary smirk—a tired, but genuine smile.
"That means you don't see it as a mission objective anymore," he said. "You see it as a place."
Peridot blinked, thrown off.
"You don't have to be perfect," Steven went on. "You don't have to save the planet, or prove anything. Just... do what you know how to do. Screw up if you have to."
Peridot looked at him more intently.
"You're not a tool here," he added. "You're Peridot. And as weird as it sounds, that's enough."
Peridot swallowed hard, her visor dimming slightly.
"And what if I still fail?" she asked in a low whisper.
Steven shrugged.
"Then we fail together," he replied without a second thought. "But nobody's gonna scrap you for it. No one does that here."
A short silence fell between them. Peridot lowered her gaze, took a deep breath, and placed the metal part on the ground with much more care than usual.
"This planet is still weird," she muttered. "But... I guess I can try to feel safe here."
Steven stood up slowly.
"That's enough for now," he said.
Peridot gave a single nod and went back to work, her hands looking a little less tense this time.
And as Steven walked away, he knew that short chat meant more than any equation written on that board.
He leaned in a bit closer before walking off, making sure nobody else could hear, leaning down toward Peridot.
"Oh, right," he whispered, barely audible, just for her. "If you ever feel uncomfortable about your appearance... or the fusion stuff, or anything you don't quite understand yet, just come talk to me."
Peridot went rigid for a second, caught completely off guard.
"I'll be around," Steven continued in the same low tone. "You don't have to carry that alone, or pretend it doesn't bother you. You can talk to me whenever you want."
Peridot didn't answer right away. She just gave a very slow nod, her cheeks tensing up a bit, as if she didn't quite know what to do with those words.
"Thank you... Steven," she finally whispered.
Steven straightened up and walked away casually, leaving her there working in silence... but this time, with a small sense of support she had never felt before.
I hope she's doing okay, I told myself. Being in my pink form felt intense, but ever since I talked to Garnet, I felt better. I looked back at the barn, watching Lapis play without a care in the world, Pearl bickering with Amethyst as if the world wasn't about to end today, and Garnet, who had arrived at some point without me even realizing it.
I shook my head and walked far away, heading toward a spot I already knew well. Not because I wanted to be alone, but because I knew I needed to be for what I was about to do.
I wanted to call out to Pearl, but fear held me back. Fear of saying the wrong thing, fear of shattering her even more than she already was.
Then the memory came back, clear and heavy. My gem showing me an image I didn't want to see—Pink Diamond losing control, destroying her original Pearl, reducing her to something that would eventually end up under White Diamond's control.
I clenched my fists without realizing it.
Maybe that's why I hesitated so much. Maybe that's why the fear was still there.
I reached a quiet clearing. A small lake stretched out before me, its surface reflecting the warm hues of the sunset. The breeze barely rustled the grass, and for a moment, everything felt still. I lowered my feet until they touched the damp earth, feeling the cool grass and the scent of water and wet soil. I sat down in front of the lake, crossing my legs, and slowly closed my eyes.
"Breathe, Steven... breathe..." I muttered to myself. My voice sounded strange in my pink form—a high-pitched murmur that was slightly more powerful than usual. I could feel my energy humming through my entire body, reminding me that every emotion, every repressed or ignored thought, was ready to break free.
Images began flashing through my mind. First, memories of my mother, Rose, before everything with the Gems turned into a complete disaster. I saw her smiling, caressing my face when I was little, her voice whispering that everything was going to be okay. She reminded me of how strong she was, not just as a leader, but as someone capable of loving despite the pain.
But the image shifted instantly. I saw her furious, shattering her original Pearl for disobeying orders. That vision made my fists clench, and a murmur escaped my lips: "Goddammit... what a load of bullshit..." The pink form of my body flickered slightly, humming with the intensity of my emotions. It was uncomfortable, yeah, but necessary. I had to face every piece of myself, even the rage I felt toward Rose's legacy and the expectations I had inherited.
I took a deep breath and tried to settle the internal hum. I focused on the sound of the lake's water, on the wind brushing through the grass. I remembered moments from my childhood that I had never truly appreciated. Moments with Greg, where all that mattered was a song, an ice cream, or just a quiet afternoon together. That simplicity reminded me that not every emotion had to be painful or intense; it could be light, even fragile, and still be a part of who I am.
The memory bled into others. I saw Pearl—always so anxious, so dependent, trying to follow orders she didn't fully understand. I remembered how I had pushed her into difficult situations, and I felt a mix of guilt and gratitude. Guilt for making her feel that way, gratitude because she still trusted me. I whispered, almost inaudible: "I'm sorry, Pearl... I'm sorry... and thank you." My body's pink form seemed to nod, as if understanding that I was learning to accept my mistakes without letting them consume me.
Then, images of Amethyst surfaced. Her laugh, her reckless nature, the way she made fun of me whenever I tried to be serious. I saw her training with me, chaotic yet invaluable, teaching me that not everything could be controlled, and that it was okay. "Dammit, Amethyst..." I muttered with a bitter smile, remembering how her energy forced me to relax even when I didn't want to.
My mind filled with more recent memories: Peridot working at the barn, nervous and efficient; Lapis floating above the roofs like always, detached yet present; Garnet watching over us, serious, steadfast... yet surprisingly understanding. All of it reminded me that even if the pressure was overwhelming and my emotions were out of control, I wasn't alone. I never had been.
With every breath, I felt my pink form begin to settle, syncing with my inner self. It wasn't just a power; it was an extension of me, and the only way to master it was to understand who I truly was. My mind searched for that image of Rose again—not the perfection, not the inhuman strength, but the vulnerability she had hidden beneath so many layers of power. "Shit... you were human at some point..." I muttered, and the words felt like a liberating sigh.
The lake before me mirrored my internal state. Quiet at times, agitated at others. I closed my eyes and visualized my body's pink form absorbing every emotion, letting me feel them without letting them control me. Anger, sadness, joy, fear... each one flowed like running water, passing through without getting trapped in my mind. "It's okay to feel... it's okay to be me..." I said softly.
Then older memories returned, blending with the recent ones. I saw glimpses of Rose protecting the planet, making decisions that affected thousands of lives without anyone ever knowing. I saw her make mistakes, fail, cry alone in space, and I realized something I had never understood before: even those who seem perfect are afraid. Even the powerful feel vulnerable. And with my pink form, I didn't have to be any different.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes a bit, watching the sky darken further. The stars were beginning to peek out, reflecting in the water. I felt small against the vastness, but at the same time, larger than life. "I'm Steven... I'm me... and that's okay..." I whispered, letting the phrase settle in my chest like a mantra.
The murmur of my words blended with one final memory: Pearl, looking at my pink form, her eyes filled with doubt and trust all at once. It reminded me that part of my training wasn't just mastering power, but protecting and guiding those who put their trust in me. "I'm not going to break them... not them, not anyone..." I said, and the pink form seemed to nod, firmer and more stable than before.
Hours passed in that meditation. Images came and went: laughter, tears, rage, joy, fear, love... each one tried to pull at me, but I was learning to welcome them without losing myself. Every emotion was a lesson, every memory a tool. And even though I muttered a few quiet curses, frustrated by how hard it was to feel so much at once, I also felt like I was moving forward—that every moment was making me stronger and more grounded.
Finally, I felt like the lake in front of me, the grass under my hands, and the breeze on my face were all extensions of my inner self. I didn't need to run from anything or anyone. I closed my eyes one last time, took a deep breath, and quietly said:
"It's okay... I can do this... I can be myself... and still protect everyone."
A sigh slipped past my lips, and when I opened my eyes, the stillness of the lake and the night sky greeted me, reflecting a stronger, more confident Steven, ready to keep training.
I looked at my reflection in the water and stopped. Something wasn't right—or rather, something was too... obvious. My eyes glowed with flashes of diamond light, the pink hues far more intense than anything I had felt since I started training. My frame was bulkier, firmer, the result of hours spent at the lake meditating, letting my pink form absorb every emotion, every memory, every piece of myself I had ignored for so long.
But it wasn't just my reflection. If you looked closely, she was right there. Pink Diamond. Her image emerged at the edge of mine, ethereal, almost like an echo of my own pink form. Her features were familiar, every detail reminding me of my holographic mother and the stories I had heard. But at the same time, there was distance—an invisible abyss separating who I was from who she had been, and probably from who I could never be.
My eyes met hers, or at least met the reflection of hers. There was love, yeah, but also demands, pain, and choices I never fully understood until now. It was strange: I recognized myself in her. I could see every gesture, every curve of her expression that had once been mine, yet it was impossible to touch her, impossible to reach her. As if we were mirrored in the same lake, sharing space, yet separated by an invisible barrier that not even my pink form could cross.
I sighed, letting the mixture of closeness and distance wash over me. "Goddammit... what a load of bullshit..." I muttered, my words floating over the water as a pink flash rippled across my body. The rage wasn't destructive this time; it was a reminder, a push to keep moving forward—to accept that this mix of who I was, who I am, and who she was formed a part of me, but didn't define me completely.
Pink Diamond's reflection shifted slightly, almost as if trying to reach out, and in that moment, I felt her loneliness—the exact same loneliness I was always taught to hide behind perfection and authority. I felt strange, vulnerable. I had never thought that understanding my mother would also mean feeling her emptiness. But there she was, right in front of me, and for the first time, I wasn't afraid of it.
"It's okay... I can be who I am, I can move forward..." I whispered again, and I noticed my reflection responding. It wasn't quite an echo, nor a perfect duplicate. It was like looking at someone who is part of you, yet someone you can never change. Her gaze was steady, intense, but also understanding. And even though the distance between us felt like an abyss, the sense of familiarity was comforting.
I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, letting the pink form within me absorb that mesh of emotions. Rage, nostalgia, fear, love... everything flowed between us, reflected in the still water of the lake. My body hummed softly, and for the first time, I felt like this form wasn't controlling me; it was synced with me.
I opened my eyes and looked back at the lake. Pink Diamond's image was slowly fading, leaving only my reflection—stronger, more confident, more aware. But somewhere deep down, I knew that connection, that closeness and distance, would always be there, reminding me that the legacy inside me wasn't just a power, but a responsibility, a memory, and a path I had to walk on my own.
"Goddammit... this... this is too much..." I whispered. Yet the smile that crept onto my face wasn't born of fear or frustration. It was the smile of someone learning to be at peace with himself, even with the things that seemed impossible to reconcile.
End of Chapter 56.