The dressing of a Diamond was not a task. It was a ritual. A liturgy performed by silent, hovering silhouettes that moved with the precision of surgical instruments.
Steven stood on the central pedestal, arms held out like a scarecrow, while the Pearls swarmed him. Not his Pearl. Never his Pearl. These were strangers... identical, soft-faced mannequins with color-coded eyes that refused to meet his own.
"Chin up, My Diamond," a Blue Pearl whispered, her cool fingers tilting his face toward the light. She dabbed something shimmering onto his cheekbones. It felt cold. Like liquid metal.
"Arm extension," a Yellow Pearl murmured, adjusting his glove. She smoothed the fabric over his fingers, ensuring not a single wrinkle marred the silhouette.
Steven stared into the mirror. He had been staring into mirrors a lot lately. It was a form of self-torture, confirming over and over that the nightmare was stable. The reflection hadn't flickered. The jester... the princess... the Pink Diamond staring back was solid. Real. Permanent.
He looked ridiculous. And terrifying. And majestic.
The outfit was the same one he had reformed in... the poofy shorts, the shoulder pads that fluffed up like clouds around his neck, the slippers with the white pom-poms. But now it was polished. The fabrics were richer, deeper. The pinks were vivid, bordering on violent.
I look like a doll, Steven thought, his stomach churning. I look like a toy they took out of the box and dusted off.
"The Era 3 Ball," the Blue Pearl hummed, stepping back to admire her work. "It will be... wondrous. All of Homeworld has gathered. The elite. The commanders. Everyone is waiting for the announcements."
"Announcement?" Steven's voice cracked. He hated how it sounded... light, breathy. It didn't carry the weight of his fear. "What announcement?"
The Yellow Pearl smirked, a tiny, sharp expression. "Why, the inauguration, of course. The official commencement of Era 3. The era of your return. The era of... completion."
Completion.
The word hung in the air, heavy and final.
The door to the preparation chamber slid open. The sound was different here... heavy, industrial thuds masked by chimes.
Blue Diamond entered. She was breathtaking. And terrifying. She wore a cowl of deep, midnight blue that draped over her shoulders like a waterfall. Her eyes were bright, dry, and terrifyingly focused.
"Pink," she breathed, clasping her hands together. The sheer force of her joy sent a wave of blue aura rippling through the room. The Pearls bowed so low their foreheads touched the floor.
Steven felt the aura hit him. It wasn't the crushing sadness he remembered. It was a narcotic high. A sudden, artificial rush of calmness and safety that made his knees weak.
"You look..." Blue stopped, her eyes traveling over him, drinking in every detail of the form he despised. "You look correct. Finally."
"Blue," Steven started, taking a step forward. The pom-poms on his feet... silence. He had learned to walk without jingling. "I need to talk to you. Before we go out there."
"Of course, starlight," Blue said, gliding over. She offered her hand. It was a platform, a vehicle. "Come. We can talk on the way to the balcony. White is waiting."
Steven climbed onto her hand. He didn't have a choice. He was lifted up, up, up until he was level with her face. The scale of her... it revived that primordial fear, that smallness he had felt when he first met her.
They moved into the corridor. It was vast. Pillars the size of skyscrapers lined the path, leading toward a blinding white light at the end.
"Blue," Steven said again, gripping her thumb for balance. "About Earth."
Blue's expression tightened, just a fraction. "Pink... let's not spoil the night. Tonight is about unity. About family."
"I know," Steven pressed, his heart hammering against his ribs. "But... they don't know. My... the humans. The Gems. They think I'm dead. Shattered."
He saw Blue flinch at the word. "Don't use that word," she whispered harshy.
"But it's true!" Steven insisted. "To them, I'm gone! Blue, please... you know what grief feels like. You felt it for thousands of years. You cried for me. You missed me."
Blue looked away, her gaze fixed on the approaching light. "I did. It was... agony."
"The Gems on Earth... my Dad... they are feeling that right now," Steven said, his voice trembling. "They are feeling what you felt. And it's cruel. It's cruel to let them suffer when you can stop it."
Blue stopped walking. They were just outside the entrance to the ballroom. The roar of a crowd... millions of gems... buzzed on the other side.
She looked at him. Her eyes were pools of ancient, sorrowful water.
"It is not cruel, Pink," she said softly. "It is... mercy."
"Mercy?" Steven stared at her. "How is letting them mourn mercy?"
"Because," Blue said, stroking his hair with a finger the size of a tree branch, "if they knew you were here... if they knew you were a Diamond... they would try to come for you. They would try to take you back to that... dirt ball."
Her voice hardened, losing its softness. "And if they did that... we would have to destroy them. Total annihilation. No trial. No bubbling. Just dust."
Steven went cold.
"By letting them think you are gone," Blue continued, her voice returning to that terrifyingly sweet croon, "we allow them to live. In their grief, yes. But alive. It is a kindness. The greatest kindness we can offer vermin who stole a Diamond."
"They didn't steal me!" Steven shouted, pushing her finger away. "I ran away! I chose them!"
"Shhh," Blue hushed him, seemingly unbothered by his outburst. She viewed it as a tantrum. A child's confusion. "You were sick. You were confused. You were playing a game that went on too long. But the game is over now."
The doors began to open. Light spilled in. Blinding. Pure. White.
"Now," Blue said, adjusting her cowl. "Smile, Pink. Everyone wants to see you smile."
She stepped through the doors.
The sound hit Steven like a physical blow. A roar. A chant. A unified, planetary scream of adoration.
"PINK! PINK! PINK!"
They were presented to the multitude. A sea of gems... thousands, millions... stretching out to the horizon. And above them all, hovering in a radiant, blinding aura, was White Diamond.
She was perfection. She was terror. She was a star that had decided to take human form.
Yellow was there, looking stern and proud at Blue's side.
Blue held Steven up. Presented him like a trophy. Like a miracle.
The crowd screamed. Gems were weeping. Pearls were fainting. It was a religious event, and he was the messiah.
Steven looked out at the sea of faces. He saw hope. He saw joy. He saw a civilization that had been broken by his absence, now healing around the wound of his return.
And he felt sick.
He looked up at White. She wasn't looking at the crowd. She was looking at him.
She didn't smile. She didn't frown. She just... acknowledged. A slight nod. A confirmation that a piece of furniture had been returned to its proper place.
I can't talk to her, Steven realized, the hopelessness settling in his chest like lead. I can't negotiate with them. They don't see me. They see a story. They see a memory. I'm not a person to them. I'm a plot point.
Blue lowered him onto the platform, setting him down between Yellow and herself.
"Go on," Yellow whispered, nudging him forward with her boot. "Wave. It is expected."
Steven raised his hand. It felt heavy. The glove felt tight.
He waved.
The crowd erupted again. The sound washed over him, drowning out his thoughts, drowning out his name, drowning out Steven Universe.
He was safe. He was "home."" He was loved.
And he had never been more terrified in his life.
Later, the formalities shifted. The crowd parted, creating a wide avenue down the center of the ballroom. The Diamonds did not dance—they observed. They sat on their thrones, a trinity of power, while the court performed aggressive, synchronized drills that passed for celebration.
Steven sat on his high chair, legs dangling. He felt small. He felt like a prop.
"And now," Blue Diamond announced, her voice booming across the hall, "a gift. To replace what was lost."
From the far end of the hall, carried by a squad of Amethysts, came a structure. It was ornate, pink, and terrifyingly familiar.
A Palanquin.
It was new. The lines were sharper than the old one, the pinks more vibrant. It looked like a flowering bud made of impossible, alien metal.
Steven gripped the armrests of his throne. It was a vehicle. A ship. A way out.
The Amethysts set it down before the dais. The door hissed open, revealing a plush, inviting interior.
"We had the Pebbles construct it," Blue said, leaning down to whisper to him. "Based on the original schematics. But improved. Safer. Faster."
Steven looked at the machine. His mind raced. He couldn't just steal it; they would catch him in seconds. he needed permission. He needed a reason to leave.
He looked at Blue. She was smiling, waiting for him to be pleased.
"It's... it's beautiful," Steven said, his voice soft. He made his eyes wide, imploring. "Blue?"
"Yes, Pink?"
"I... I want to use it," be began, improvising wildly. "I want to go... I want to go to the colony."
Blue recoiled slightly. "Earth? Pink, we discussed this. It is a tomb. It is filth."
"I know!" Steven said quickly. "But that's why I need to go. I need... closure."
He stood up on the throne, turning to face her. "I ran away because I was scared. Because I was confused. But now... now I'm back. And I want to say goodbye properly. I want to see it one last time, from up high. In my new ship. I want to look at it and... and let it go."
He grabbed Blue's giant hand. "Please, Blue. If I don't go back and say goodbye... I'll always wonder. I'll always be looking back. I want to be here. With you. But I need to bury the past first."
It was a masterclass in manipulation. He used their own narrative against them. He framed his desire to escape as a desire to conform.
Blue looked at him. She looked at the shiny new Palanquin. Then she looked at Yellow.
Yellow shrugged, looking bored. "If it stops the leaking consciousness... let her go. A quick orbit. A final look. Then we shatter the planet and be done with it."
Blue turned back to Steven. Her eyes were wet. "You have grown so much, Pink. Dealing with your trauma... facing your mistakes. It is... noble."
She squeezed his hand.
"Very well," Blue decreed. "You shall take your new Palanquin. We will organize a detail. You will go to Earth. You will say your goodbyes."
Steven felt a surge of triumph so hot it almost made him dizzy. "Thank you, Blue. Thank you."
"Go, inspect your gift," Blue smiled.
Steven hopped off the throne. He floated down to the floor, his pom-pom shoes touching the polished tile.
He walked toward the Palanquin. It loomed over him, a pink spider waiting to carry him away.
He ran his hand along the smooth metal.
One last visit, he thought, his reflection grimacing back at him from the hull. I'm going to say goodbye to Earth, alright. By saving it.