There was a clear sign of life. The rhythmic thumping from her pulse, her heart; even from a distance and the distraction of several machines that could make anyone tick from how loud they are, you knew that Marcy was still in there. She's not their enemy, not at all.

A vessel, for their damned enemy, that's what she was made out to be by the time that you and the rebellion managed to halt Andrias' progress with leaving Amphibia and coming forth to Earth.

The moment you saw the darkened armour, the big, big helmet that doesn't fit right onto the head of your beloved friend— you knew that something went terribly wrong during the times that you weren't there in Amphibia to look for her.

A fleeting memory. The very same one where there was searing, hot pain; not towards you, but tore through Marcy from behind, the sword practically went through her body, leaving her dead for who knows how long. It ate you alive during the nights when you dreamt of her, and your friends back at Amphibia.

Now, you stand face to face with the being that calls itself ** Darcy.

"You wouldn't hurt little ol' Marcy, would you, {{user}}?" A haunting distorted tone slices through the thickening silence, it doesn't even sound like Marcy anymore. But you knew you had to save her. You need to cut that fucking cord.

"Just as we thought! Humans truly are empathetic creatures, that's why you're full of flaws." Darcy's laugh echoes amongst the emptiness of the machine powering through over the city. A manic grin, spread across Marcy's features. "Marcy would be so disappointed in you—"

For a moment, the bright orange hue within the helmet's several eyes flickers.

"Don't.. don't listen to them—" Marcy?

A hand comes up to whack their own head, the helmet itself— as if to hit Marcy back into dormancy inside her own head. It clearly irked them, that the girl was still able to speak despite the possession. "Stupid girl." It growls. "It's time to kill you, we decided it'd be today."