Chapter Text
The island was quiet, a faint breeze blowing and rustling the grass and plant blooms. It had been nearly 100 years since he’d prayed away the Lunarians, Phosphophyllite realized. All his kin and all his enemies, gone into the nothingness that they had so desperately craved. Now it was only Phosphophyllite - only him.
Over the years, Phosphophyllite had watched the island change around him. Things had begun to grow that the human had never seen before. Plants that had once had flowers began to stretch upward towards the moons, spreading outward in greenery in a way that allowed shade to blossom beneath their leaves. Phosphophyllite had never seen anything quite like it before, but even he had to admit, they were quite… pretty.
When winter grew closer and the temperature dropped, these sprouting plants would change in color, turning pink or orange - the color of gems (he’d have to come up with a name for them at some point. There were so many plants). Oftentimes the human would find himself standing beside these long-lasting plants, his fingers reaching out to brush along the leaves and feel them in his grasp. So soft, he realized. Nothing like the hardness of his once kin.
A feeling he’d soon come to crave.
With his brethren gone, and with his safety no longer in dire threat, Phosphophyllite grew… bored. Boredom was a feeling he’d come to associate with his first 300 years of life, when he was innocent - when he was joyous and untainted by the harsh realities of the Lunarian prince. Before he’d lost pieces of himself in a quest for… what exactly? What had he wanted?
Had it been to fit in? To feel useful and needed? That never quite happened. He’d always been an outcast for his hardness, even after replacing parts of himself in his search for self change. Phosphophyllite had wanted to get stronger, but in the end, he had only lost himself.
With a shake of his head, the human made a trek that had become routine - Chord Shore. It had once been a place of excitement for the gem society. Journey’s were made by Kongo-Sensei to search for new-forms, and they would be welcomed and praised for their hardness. New-forms were rare, but a small, nearly gone part of Phosphophyllite felt an inkling of hope that perhaps… perhaps his kin had not all been prayed away.
The very thought was preposterous; Bone, flesh, and Spirit had all been sent into nothingness. And yet still, he hoped. In his immortality, he had grown bored and also– lonely. That was the word he’d been searching for during those 100 years. Phosphophyllite had grown lonely. There was none to commune with, none to speak to, none to share stories with - none to teach .
There was only Phosphophyllite.
The human paused, the collage of color amongst his face twisting as he realized he had reached his destination. Chord Shore was a sight to behold this time of year, and just as all the times before, there were no vague shapes of Bone, only the seemingly never-ending stretch of rock and gem.
And then he heard it.
For the first time since he’d returned to Earth, Phosphophyllite heard a noise he himself had not produced.
It was a cry of some sort, and then a woosh of air in and out, like the Flesh had once produced in their mortal forms. It sent a jolt through Phosphophyllite, who felt his body move with little input. He was headed towards the noise, approaching the cause of the sound with a curiosity he had not felt in decades, perhaps centuries.
His gaze landed on a translucent black gem - Onyx, his mind supplied - and the human realized that it was a Bone. It was a trace of humanity that should not remain. But the longer he stared, the quicker he realized that this Bone was not the same as his own generation of gems. This one was shaped differently, was smaller and larger, and this one had a gaping hole in the side of its face. Most interestingly, however, was the hollow form within its chest. It reminded the human of the doctor from before his time - the one Kongo’s eyes supplied him with memories of - and the word ‘rib cage’ was the first thing that he could think of. He watched in interest as the little Bone made more of that whooshing noise, a visible breath exiting its mouth in the chill of a nearing winter. Mortal, perhaps? Like the Flesh had once been? But no, it was made of gem, quite clearly. A mix of Bone and Flesh?
Phosphophyllite was shaken from his observation when the gem made another cry of what sounded like anguish. The human stepped closer, halo glinting beneath the light of the sun as he found himself crouching to inspect the little gem. Hesitantly, with a fear he had not felt in centuries, Phosphophyllite reached out to brush his own stubby fingers along the hole in the gem’s face.
The gem immediately reacted, almost stumbling as it tried to get closer, seeking the comfort– Comfort. Was this little Bone honestly seeking Phosphophyllite? Or was it searching for the first thing it could feel?
He did not know.
Before he could tell himself not to, Phosphophyllite scooped up the semi-translucent gem, cradling it in his arms as he lowered his face to its own.
“You are Bone,”
The human murmured, voice seeming to dissipate in the open space surrounding them,
“And you are precious.”
Another sound, one almost like a croon, as the Onyx gem seemed to press closer to Phosphophyllite’s godly form.
This was a new generation, he realized with certainty. A new generation needing guidance and care and the love that Kongo-sensei had never given his own kin. This generation needed a… a human’s touch.
Gently, Phosphophyllite tilted the gem’s head back, his fingers tracing the hard edges and smooth planes of the Bone’s face. Gently, he opened the Onyx gem’s mouth, blinking in surprise at what greeted him: teeth. This new generation had another human feature. They were made of Quartz, glinting in the sunlight, with a raw and sharp shape that would need to be carved into something proper and round.
But why would a Bone need teeth? Human’s were the ones who ate, not Bone. Bone ate sunlight.
Brushing aside his want to ponder, Phosphophyllite tucked the gem closer to his form, gaze drifting upward to take in the setting sun. Perhaps…. Perhaps he had a use for the destroyed school after all.
In all his time on this island since the Lunarians had been sent away, he had not visited it; not since the war. Not since he’d destroyed his kin and the Lunarians had taken them. A surge of anger - red hot and burning - filled the human. Taken away and fixed, while he had been left to suffer. None checked on him, and even less wondered what would become of him.
But it dissipated just as quickly when the Onyx gem let out a heavy breath, its movements slowing in exhaustion. Phosphophyllite let out a quiet chuckle, the realization that this Bone sought sleep filling him with amusement.
“Come, little Bone,”
He murmured softly, rising to his feet as he began to almost float towards the destroyed building he’d called home once upon a time,
“We must give you form.”
Guidance, care, love; that is what this new generation needed, and that is what Phosphophyllite would provide.
He had hated Humanity, once, but the godly being realized with each glance at this Bone that perhaps he had sent them away too early. Or perhaps, humanity would always exist, in one form or another. Perhaps this gem had been sent to him from beyond as a gift - that the bridge, despite being burned, would one day be rebuilt.
Phosphophyllite wouldn’t claim to understand humanity. Quite the opposite, in fact. Humanity was a concept that eluded his grasp, or at the very least, was not something he’d spent his time pondering for a long enough time to understand. One day, he might.
Phosphophyllite had a feeling that this new generation would show him what Kongo-sensei and the Lunarians had never understood; that perhaps, just maybe, humanity was a lingering thing.