An axe, a katana, parts from a spaceship, a clone.... Mithias gathers up fragments and remnants of a multiverse long gone. It's players and people, stories now legend, saved from fading and placed in a box. It is with that box in his open arms that the winged vampire presses open the door of the once-flaming coffee lounge. The place is empty, except for a white paladin and a bloody, rather tribal looking creature with a masked face at the back of the lounge. They are talking quietly and seem to be sharing stories, or discussing philosophy, or whatever. The vampire sighs as the conversation comes to a halt at his entrance, and he sadly sets the box on the counter. No waiter is back there cleaning glasses. No, not this time. Mithias spies a dusty looking sparkly red hat on the counter... and adds it to the box.
Turning his head, he looks over at the other two. "At least there is some kind of life in here, but I fear it's too late for the rest of the universe."
