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Butters head towards the bar and puts maybe an embarrassing amount of thought into how they'll return to the beer garden. Perhaps do the putting their pint down around his shoulders with a "Hey" kind of thing? Sit on the table in front of him, thing? Ooooohh what if in the meanwhile Chloe comes back? They could do the swerve of a little kiss on the head before going to sit in Chloe's lap? It's so rare they get to do Hot Gay Shit, it's a very exciting thing for them!

As Butters waits at the bar, a noise strikes them from behind, indistinguishable and muffled, perhaps coming from outside of the pub. It's context is abstract, some voices they recognise, some they do not. Butters turns around to go investigate the source.

-Uuuuhhh before you go my friend, may I trouble you for a moment of your time?

Butters slowly turns their attention back towards the bar, as every light source which once illuminated the place in which they stood has been taken from it in an instant. The only source of light left is the dim glow of the wisps of purple flame which draw Butters attention to a section of a bar, home to the biggest current source of illumination: A ball of purple flame not unlike the ones they had seen in Chloe and Ell's possession not a few moments earlier.

It's bloom barely managing to reveal the figure which stands guard over it. Only managing to catch it's anthrotypical shape, tho perhaps hitting the limit of a believable amount of hulk for a mortal. Covered in a frayed jumper, which Butters manages, as they walk on closer, to notice the singed tips and the odd discolouring on the jumper's side, stained with something that the dim flame cannot reveal.

-I couldn't help but notice but you're about to endure another cycle Grey. The figure bellows from the shadows.

-How do you know my name? Asks Butters.

The figure, gestures their comically disproportionate drink towards the other side of the bar.

-The landlord she says...

-She says I'm Butters Grey the one that always comes to moan about dates yup yup yup yup yup yup yup good. Butters interrupts with their nails clacking on the barkeep in frustrated rhythm. But... You said I'm about to like, enter a cycle?

The figure nods, as far as Butters can parse with the visibility.

-It's too late to stop this rotation, yes you must suffer one last time, unless you will it otherwise, but I have a gift. One which will ensure that this cycle is the last one.

The figure then gestures towards the flame, as it moves towards them as if it had been scooped up underneath an unseen utensil. As the flame descended onto Butters grasp, they could notice the large hand grasping it, the skin grey and corse, barely with any signs of life. It reminds them of Xi somewhat now that they think about it.

The flame calms down to a size that Butters can feasibly hold in both their paws. Under this new illumination, they become cognizant of the blackness that surrounds them is moving a shifting before their very eyes. They look over their shoulder and gaze into the vast open, the longer they stare, the more they can notice the very fabric of their narrative itself laid bare before them:

Butters tries to pull down their sleeve to cover their cuts, but shame there's no sleeve for their eyes though. They haven't slept for the last few days

Humans are just a lot more dependent and... Soft? Like in a way we aren't. I kinda envy that and don't just wanna leave it on the table. Monsters can be so callous when they just drop you and move on, humans have a whole little ritual when they break things off with you and that's nice

Like what is it Butters? Is it cos deep down you agree with them that our features are disgusting? One day you'll see that our way is better, everything you want is here with your kin.

Chloe ends up just scratching their head in frustration, it's a convo she's tried to have with Butters many a time. But she doesn't know the words that'll finally work with them. Although the problem with Chloe's reasoning is the implication that Butters doesn't already know everything she's saying is right

Ell and Butters continue into the night, as Butters knows this cycle will start again the following day.

A reality is laid bare in front of them, undeniable despite it's lack of sense in their current understanding of their life: They've done all of this before. And days, weeks and months from now? They've done this too.

-I can't guarantee this last cycle isn't going to hurt. The Figure explains. You will hurt, you are going to cause pain to those you love, you will be broken down and made up. But you can do the work to make this cycle as smooth as possible.

Butters hears a commotion just outside of the pub doors, some voices they don`t know, the others they recognise.

-Looks like your first opportunity has arrived. The Figure announces. Whether you grasp the gifts you`ve been given, is up to you.

Butters looks to the door, grasps the flame that had been resting in their paw, as they put it in their pocket. They focus on the feeling of heat growing in their palm, the flames that once gave the people of clay the means to create their own civilization. The flames that tickle the possibility for Butters, that their fate is malleable and their path has yet been trodden. The heat becomes more and more overbearing, as every other sensation around them gets lost, as their paw grips tighter and tighter. Everything melts awa????????y??? ???????i???????????n??????? ???????t?????h?????i??????????s??????? ??????m?????????o????m??????e????????n??????t??????? ???????o?????f?????? ?????????t??????????h???????e???????? ??????d?????????e????c??????????i???????????s???????i????????o?????????n????????.???????.?????????.???????