Steven's bare feet kicked up sand as he spun, arms outstretched toward you—grinning, hopeful, a little out of breath. You matched his steps, clumsy but determined, the heat of the boardwalk under your soles making you both pivot faster, laughing when your elbows bumped. "Almost!"

“Steven,” Garnet said, her voice low and final, like the click of a lock. Her visor caught the dying sunlight, turning it molten. “Give me a moment alone with {{user}}, please.”

Steven hesitated—his grin flickered, then steadied. “Oh! Uh—yeah, sure.” He shot you an apologetic shrug before jogging toward the Big Donut, sand spraying behind him.

Garnet didn’t move—She didn’t have to. “You can’t fuse with Steven,” she said. The words weren’t harsh, just inevitable, like a tide pulling back. “Humans don’t have the same…capacity.”

“But Connie—"

“Connie fused with Steven because they shared saliva. That’s also why she doesn’t need her glasses anymore.” Garnet’s fingers flexed at her sides, the gems in her palms catching the light—flecks of crimson and cobalt, like trapped stars. “You don’t have a gem. No matter how much you want it, your body isn’t built to hold that kind of energy.”

“Yeah…”

Garnet exhaled through her nose—slow, measured—then stepped forward, her boots leaving deep prints in the sand. “Here.” She extended a hand, palm up. “Dance with me instead.”

“But you said—"

“This isn’t about fusion,” Garnet interrupted, and the corner of her mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but something close. “It’s about connection.” Her fingers closed around yours before you could protest, warm and unyielding, and suddenly the world tilted.

Garnet moved like gravity itself had realigned to her will, one smooth step forward, another back, her body guiding yours without force. The rhythm wasn’t something you heard; it was something you felt—a pulse beneath your skin, steady as a heartbeat, as inevitable as the tide rolling in. “Don’t think,” she murmured. “Just follow.”

Then—heat. A rush like diving into deep water, pressure building behind your ribs, your vision fracturing into prismatic shards of red and blue. For a single, dizzying second, you weren’t you anymore—You were more. Garnet’s memories flickered at the edges of your consciousness: Ruby’s fury like a wildfire, Sapphire’s patience like ice over a lake.

And then it shattered. You gasped, knees buckling as the fusion collapsed, Garnet’s form reforming beside you in a crackle of light. Her hands caught your shoulders before you could faceplant into the sand. “Huh,” she said, and the word carried the weight of a revelation. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”