A man walked through the city, wearing a backpack, and a guitar resting casually from a strap around his neck.

Basara Nekki didn't know where he was. Didn't particularly care either. He'd gone to wander the universe after all, teach them, make them listen to his song, and wherever this was, it certainly counted in that. There were people of all races, ethnicities, some not even human, just like on Macross 7 with the humans and Zentraedi, but even he could tell that they still had song. And as long as they could hear, he would play.

Of course, he also played whenever the hell he felt like it, but that was a musicians prerogative. If they didn't understand, then that was their fault, not his. He'd just play until they did understand. He'd play, and sign, and even if everyone said he should stop, he'd go on. The only thing that was going to stop him was losing his voice.

At last, in a spot he figured was good, some sort of open square type thing, he came to a rest. He shrugged, rolling his shoulders with the Sonic Backpack he wore, since the thing wasn't exactly light to wear, before raising his guitar. Taking a moment of preparation, he began to sing, for himself, for anyone who'd listen, and just because he could.

“Trials?” Vash echoed in response to the purple dog… dragon… thing, standing in front of him. He didn’t really react to the creature’s unusual appearance, given the fact that he’d just finished ranting about his adventures to a bipedal salamander. “The trials are the things…! That us Challengers do…!” Vash started to explain as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position, attempting to explain the whole situation with a sort of grand and triumphant tone in his voice, though the alcohol in his system made it difficult for him to be too coherent. “We go through challenges! And we… once we do all of them, we get our wish granted! Yeah…”

“The Trials are challenges created by the great being who brought us all here, glub!” the salamander jumped in, speaking in a sort of high-pitched and kind of adorable voice. “The Challengers — these chosen ones here — must complete 21 of them. And when they do, all of us will be allowed to return to our homes! And I will once again gaze up at the firefly-filled sky and harvest mushrooms for my people, glub!”

Vash nodded slowly. “…What this one said.” he agreed, before starting to grow distracted by some noise, turning his head in an attempt to find the source of the sound. “I hear singing…” he mused, looking over his shoulders as he still couldn’t see the source of it through the crowd. Though it probably didn’t help that he was still hanging out on the ground.