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Contrary to popular belief, Lance knew exactly what she was doing.
Sure, her friends - were they her friends? Honestly, she couldn’t really tell - would later berate her for this, that much she knew was true, but she knew at the end of the day it all was worth it.
She tried to ignore the fear building in her stomach as her eyes darted between the two Gods, words hurling between them across a crowded room. Whomever designed it had the forethought to put them on opposite ends, at least.
Ghostbur - and she knew from that day forward that was what she would call him, no matter how much he hated it - was loud, angry, things Lance had never seen him like before. Even in the last two confrontations with JoJo, he was the calm one. But no, this was God in all his glory and fury, and it scared her.
Theren, Gods, Theren, why, why did you go and do that? Possibly the only sane part of Lance’s brain questions as he stands there, head held high. But not in pride, she notices. There is no sense of glee on his face, no shine in his eyes proving anything he said held even a fraction of truth behind it. If I live through this, I swear to the Gods, I will punch him in the face.
If she meant Theren or JoJo, she was still not quite sure, as she watched the angered God nearly curl into himself, tears pricking at those ghastly white eyes. There was another emotion she was certain she had never seen from Ghostbur - overwhelming and crushing sadness.
Maybe that’s what motivated her, Lance thought as she took a threatening step forward, one arm planted firmly on the table to keep her upright, her other clutched tightly around Backbiter’s hilt, the black blade still stained red. How fitting, a sword named after a traitorous God to be used against another.
Glancing sideways, she caught Noctia’s eye, and all her friend did was nod. She couldn’t have known what Lance was planning to do, how could she? It was a spur of the moment choice, a reckless, stupid choice that would haunt those around her for the rest of their collective days. Did she regret it?
No.
JoJo threatened the wrong God, and what little respect he earned from Lance after he revived Egg was gone in that moment, the blasted trident clutched tightly in his grip. No matter how afraid Lance was of Ghostbur in that moment, or the fact he held his own trident, though far more laxed in his grip than JoJo, she had made a very specific promise to the people in that Syndicate, one she intended to keep with her dying breath.
‘I would burn the entire world to the ground if it meant those I cared about were safe,’ she thought as she took several, smaller steps to the side, inching closer and closer to Ghostbur.
In a second, time slowed. Lance watched with ever-widening eyes as JoJo’s eyes glinted in the candlelight, as he slowly raised his right arm, the one clutched around the trident. It felt as if the moment dragged on for minutes, but to anyone else, it passed in mere seconds. Lance moved faster than she had thought possible on land, and she leapt on the table, scattering long-forgotten food in every direction.
Somebody screamed, another was crying, and several were yelling, but she couldn’t place them.
The endstone brick - since when was she on the floor? - was cold against her spine. Was somebody calling her name? Or maybe they’re calling her Princey.
Yes, that’s it, they’re calling her Princey. It has to be Ghostbur.
Through straining eyes, Lance could blearily make out the form of the God leaning over her, mouthing something. No, no, he was speaking to her, she just couldn’t make out the words.
Why can’t she hear him? Better question, why can’t she hear anything anymore?
Why is it so quiet?
Something wet touches her cheek, and through her fading vision, she could see the same little prinpicks of tears now cascading down Ghostbur’s face. Why was he crying? She would be fine.
She wanted to tell him as such, but she couldn’t even tell if her mouth was moving.
Ghostbur was gone again, leaving her in the quiet chaos alone. Where did he go?
But she couldn’t stay in there for long, and slowly felt herself slipping, ebbing towards the darkness creeping into her vision.
Was Death always this peaceful? She wondered, as she closed her eyes, knowing deep down she did what she was supposed to. Ghostbur is safe, her friends are safe. And that’s all that matters.