Nautilus’ words hurt again, causing Muse to almost flinch a bit as his expression faded further. Political tools, he said. Muse almost refuted that statement, but the worst part of it was that his claim even seemed to hold some truth to it; was he really treating these roleplayers as nothing more than chess pieces in his fight against Godmod? Unintentional as it may have been, he couldn’t help but feel horrible about it. 

A flicker of hope rose up in him again, however, as Nautilus’ memories seemed to return. “Yes, yes!” he exclaimed. “Don’t you remember? It’s me, Muse! I tried my hardest to keep you and the other roleplayers safe, but I spent too much time running around and not enough time teaching you what you needed to know to survive on your own, and before I knew it that damn Godmodder showed up in that fucking wolf skin and…” he took a moment to catch his breath, offering his hand to help Evil off the ground before continuing. “I thought you were dead, man. So sorry if I’m not as upbeat as I was the first time we met – so much in fact that you didn’t recognize me – but seeing so many people be murdered in cold blood while you’re helpless to stop it can kind of be a downer.” 

Looking around the group, and listening to his own words, he realized what a terrible job he was doing of saving this batch, making all the same mistakes and more. Evil and Nautilus were doing surprisingly well on their own, and he’d probably done more harm than good to John and Ebil… “Listen, guys,” he spoke up, directing his voice to the whole group. “I know you’re all probably really confused right now, and I’m not doing a very good job of helping you, and worst of all, you have plenty of reasons to not trust me, so…” he trailed off, looking back up at the floating land mass in the sky. As much as it pained him to not intervene, he needed a change in strategy. Muse walked to the front of the group, positioning himself so he could look directly at all four of them. “I realize now that I can’t keep running around like I own you, or act like I’m above you. I can’t keep, uh, railroading, for sake of roleplaying analogy.” To demonstrate his level of sincerity, he dropped to his knees, hands on the floor, head down. “Ask me any questions you have, or tell me what you think I should do for you. So long as it’s within my knowledge and ability, I will comply.” He told them, before lifting his head to look them in the eyes. “I am at your service.” 

---

Meanwhile, high above Muse’s group, narrowed violet eyes scanned Kalmasyia Academy from above, searching for signs of life. “Rocks don’t fall on their own…” he mused, tossing the small piece of earth up and down in his hand; the thing had nearly killed him. Basilix’s nostrils flared. He growled at the academy like a dog, blood-stained maw hanging open as he lowered his head down to the school courtyard. “Oooooh human scents, you say? Recent?” Godmodder guessed excitedly. Basilix nodded. “Excellent!” he chirped, hopping off the wyvern’s head and onto the floating terrain, dropping the rock at his feet. Eager as he was to toy with the residents, tearing the place up with his dragon would be too boring – over with too quickly. “Bassie, you sleep for a bit.” He ordered. “I’ll explore on my own.” At Godmod’s words, Basilix’s entire body vanished almost instantly – only an incomprehensible purple blur visible to the naked eye before he disappeared. A grin on his face and a devilish sparkle in his flame-eye, Godmodder made his way towards the nearest entrance. “Let’s see who’s home…”