Gorrendil certainly was not happy when the giant brute lifted him off the ground. It was better than other..... misadventures he has had but it was still annoying. Here he was, stuck in a room with boring people, talking to a stoic machination and being lifted by a purple behemoth. "Oh how the mighty have fallen. Fuck my life" Gorrendil was beginning to be impatient. Sure he has been in this room for around a minute but it might as well have been an hour considering how bored he was. Turning away from the machine, he looked around the room for at least someone interesting. He saw a girl look around, looking like she was on a quest (Sayaka). He was excited. Finally for some bloody action. "Hey Mon'keigh girl next to that unconscious one! Yeah, you! You wanna get out of this white boring as the warp piece a khorne dick room? Let's go!" Oh how he grinned his face off.

Tatsuya, already exploring the next room, looked around. It appeared to be a theater. Of course, he didn't bother with the paintings this time, but instead just walked up to one of the doors, opening it, not really afraid of whatever was on the other side. What he wasn't expecting, though, was that he was suddenly sucked out into oblivion, with the door closing behind him.

He'd dropped his apple and he'd dropped his jaw, and it didn't look like either one would be retrieved. What in the Booble's name did he just experience? That...voice...was worse than the growls of the Groke, and that light was worse that the Lady of the Cold's glare--what on earth? Where had that great brute gone? And why were there new idiots standing in the old idiot's place? What? Come again? When he finally stirred from his shock, the Joxter looked down at his half-eaten, discarded treat in dismay. How long had that sat on the floor, waiting for him? He picked the apple off the floor and rose, brushing it off on his coat as he trotted over to the new human with the strange arm, just to ask him about it. "So, what's with the arm?" He asked, not really caring if he was being forward or rude. "And that eye, too. A little bit excessive for a regular looking fellow."

"Alfonzo, while I would love to argue this, I am an Alpha cat and it is hard for me to sit around doing nothing. We have people here lost and alone, and I have two mates back at my unguarded lands that are probably crippled with worry. I am sorry, Ib, but I must investigate." Alfonzo watched as Darkhunter concluded onto his departure, and made his way onward somewhere else. Whilst he did, Al decided to loosen up a bit and try to relax himself. He leaned his back against the wall, standing right next to the painting he recently got done viewing. He crossed his arms onto his chest and began to view what the others were doing out of amusement. He kind of became depressed after all that was said, but the creature wasn’t going to change his mind on anything unless he had proof this was real. “I don’t have an awkward stance……” Alfonzo silently mumbled to himself. Once the boredom started to hit him, he began to think. He wondered on what new things the facility was going to show him once he got out of this circumstance of illusion, and when they were going to promote him into advance training, something he was very excited for. He also remembers their complaints that were made to him, that of most situations, he didn’t take everything he does for them serious like he should. Maybe this dream could have something to do with it, taking a certain setting that was unusual and bizarre and make a more serious approach towards it, like he was training in his sleep. The thought made Alfonzo begin to scratch his chin, but then another thought had occurred in his mind, one that was pretty ignorant to say the least. “Hmm….. I wonder how time works in dreams like this.” Before he placed his hand down, Al realized that he had the possession of his watch still with him. He raised his towards his face so he could see what the time was. 6:34.….A.M. or P.M.? He also noticed something else as well. The second hand on his watch showed no movement whatsoever. That certainly didn’t make sense to him, unless it was broken or died on him, but then again it could be something else. What if this dream had no possession of time at all, like it was frozen or doesn’t even exist? The thought had Alfonzo curious, but he also wondered if the others had noticed anything about it as well. “Quick question everyone!” yelled Alfonzo. “Does anyone have the current time as of now?”

Through of all the strange and rather unexplainable events, Rhys found himself inching closer and closer to the opposite wall. It seemed ridiculously plain in wherever he had landed, but for some reason, he didn't seem to mind all that much. The images on the wall seemed to be mainly of scenery, that he had sworn he had seen before, but none in particular stood out to him. All points considered, he had literally no idea where the hell he was. Although it was slightly better than being left to die on Pandora, he felt a certain sense of guilt for leaving Vaughn behind. Maybe even Sasha and Fiona, too. To an extent, anyway. Sasha wasn't as bad as she seemed, but he still wasn't sure about Fiona. Considering that she brought Vaughn back in one piece spoke for her capability at the very least. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, he was wondering who would be the most normal to talk to: he had questions. Then again, none of them looked normal and before he could even try, he was approached by a ridiculously short man with a pointy hat in the shape of a cone. "So, what's with the arm? And that eye, too. A little bit excessive for a regular looking fellow." Rhys paused, looking at his right arm, opening and closing the palm of the yellow metal. "They're upgrades," well, that wasn't entirely a lie. "You know, the ECHO eye implant? I'm sure you've seen it. Commercials everywhere. One of the best on the market, I assure you. What's with your . . everything?" He responded, trying to think of a question. "Actually, what the hell are you?" Rather bluntly put, but he supposed this wasn't really the time for formalities, if there ever was one, "Are you some sort of species from Eden-6? Ooh...I hear they have some really weird crap going on over there." Like fake Vault keys. Dammit, Fiona!

Sayaka had just finished up checking Cal's vitality when one of the two armored knights, part of the late arrivals, came marching to her with a large, goofy grin. "Hey Mon'keigh girl next to that unconscious one! Yeah, you! You wanna get out of this white boring as the warp piece a khorne dick room? Let's go!" "Great, another eloquent speaker." As she rubbed her aching forehead, she exhaled another sigh. This place would run her breathless by the end of the day. "Erm, look," she began while putting on her warmest smile, "I'm a bit busy at the moment looking for a way out of here. The one who brought us here wouldn't just let us off the hook that easily, but that doesn't mean we should just fool around and do nothing. You can come with me if you want to. I could use any help getting these people out of here." Having said that, Sayaka swiftly walked past the warrior without waiting for an answer, the friendly grin still hanging from her face. After a couple more steps, however, she was forced to a halt once more, this time by a familiar voice coming from inside her head. "Many people would have done the same thing, Sayaka. You did not commit something anywhere near as heinous as you imagine." She half-smiled at the kind words, but the grimace that was quickly becoming a trademark of hers resurfaced on her face. "Maybe..." she replied in thought, unsure of the technicalities of telepathic communication, or whether if her wise friend would even hear the reply, "but I can't just let it go, not like this. They were my sins... Whether I was at fault does not matter; their blood was on my hands. And that's that. It is not a matter of self-loathing; it is a matter of duty." Sayaka moved on, trying her best to put the conversation out of her mind. She was grateful for the feline's words, and she knew that her self-blame was nonsensical, given that when a magical girl falls into total despair, she would have no control over her transformation into a witch. It was an inevitable fate all magical girls had once shared till the grace of Madoka saved them all. Given all of that, she could not let it go, and especially not now. Such internal conflicts and moral dilemmas were better left for another time if they ever escaped this place. After being held back more than a handful of times, Sayaka finally came upon the other side of the room. And she was at awe. A theater a bit larger than a football field appeared right before her eyes, with rolls of high class seats aligned across the entire area, and at the very back, a breathtaking movie screen sitting grandiosely above a stage. It had been a while since Sayaka visited a theater, a decade even. She would always attend every performance of her childhood crush, Kyousuke Kamijou, watching him playing that violin. But after the accident that took away the motor control over his arm, Sayaka had not visited a theater since. The painful history that would lead to her contract as a magical girl was one that she had long moved on from. Shrugging off the annoying recollections, Sayaka swiveled around and surveyed the room, memorizing the layout in case it became helpful. While doing so, she noticed that Ib had arrived before her, probably when she was held back by her new companion and her telepathic conversation with Darkhunter. From afar, she could observe that Ib was trying out the exits labeled with the blatant neon signs, and while she too wish that it was that easy, she too knew as Ib knew that the result of such an attempt would probably be disappointing. And as it turned out moments after the twisting of those knobs, it was. Another sigh. Had she a yen for every of these she breathed out, she could probably bribe her way out, and probably even everyone else's too. Exasperated, Sayaka slumped down a random seat in the room, her chin resting upon an elevated palm. In her idleness, however, she failed to notice the pistol-boy from earlier opening one of the doors Ib had tried earlier. He was sucked in, and the door closed up immediately. Sayaka jerked out of her seat. "What... what the hell...?" was all she could articulate. It took her seconds to comprehend the situation. Another one was gone. Another man she could have saved. Another weight on her conscience. "Goddammit..." she cursed bitterly, a clenched fist slammed onto the seat in the row before her. And then she looked around at the eyes that she had attracted, and she wondered how pathetic her state of anger must had looked. She heaved another sigh and began marching across the theater. "There's gotta be a way out. Time's running out."

----

As the events of the small band of mismatches continued, the still-in-shock Integra was still trying to process everything that occurred right before her eyes. First, there was the location of the room and its wall-hung contents. Hellsing couldn't recognise many of the scenes and people depicted, but one which disturbed her the most was a vista depicting a fire-consumed London, a trio of all-too familiar airships hovering menacingly over the Thames. Second, the people. None of the people (or creatures, for the odd exceptions) possessed any clothing, armament or insignia that she could recognise, nor could she even remotely understand more then half of what was being communicated back and forth between them: "The Warp", "Mon-Keigh" and many others. However, she was confident, though equally cautious, that none of them were Nosferatu, ghouls or any other form of foe that she'd have to dispatch on the spot. Come to think of it, that was really all she could gather about them - none of them had been able to make much sense to her so far. Finally, to muddy matters even further, something or someone was in control of this environment, as amply demonstrated when a number of the occupants were ejected into what ever void was hemming everyone in. "Come on, Integra. Focus!" she hissed to herself. "What would your father have said if she saw you in such a pitiful state now?" Able to get to her feet at last, the full-time vampire-huntress' first act of introduction was to reach for a cigar and search for her li- 'Wait. Damn it, I lost mine back on Millenium's flagship!' she cursed to herself. Deprived of her lighter and without matches, she leaned against a bare section of wall and crossed both of her arms, the unlit cigar hanging lazily out of the corner of her lips.

Gorrendil was absolutely surprised at the Mon'keigh's reaction. How she walked away with a "winning" like swagger to her step. Eldar did not grow senile with age. They only get wiser. And Gorrendil was no exception to this rule. He can see that type of walk from a mile away. Grimacing at his choices, he chose to follow the Mon'keigh, silent and ever vigilant. Gorrendil let his mind wander to the events before.... "Gorrendil!" The soon to be married Eldar turned to the love of his life. Emily Hart. A being of beauty, with such grace and subtlety that no man could resist her. Blonde flowing hair. Young and vibrant pearl blue eyes. A voice that should only be sung by the Angels themselves. And a personality so happy and kind, any man would fall in love. "Ren, I yearn for your touch. Can we please have one more before the wedding?" The stupefied Eldar followed her upstairs in their little home. It was humble abode, set in a world within the confines of the Tau Empire. All of his friends and colleagues will be at the wedding. Janus. Tarven. Even old Rustbucket came, the sentient Necron was dragged in by Mara no doubt. None of that mattered however, as the vixen he desired pulled him into the room. "GORRENDIL! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART!" Gorrendil gasped, finishing himself in a strangely large room, filled with red seats. He looked around to see a Mon'keigh in front of him looking at a scene beyond his vision. The Outcast came to his knees, clutching his scarred heart. "EMILY!" Gorrendil began crying, crying his tears out. The love of his life..... She really was.... All the events that have taken place.... It made him hurt. He wanted to end it all. Gorrendil whipped his laspistol out and pressed it on his temple. He wanted to pull the trigger. And end it all. To forsake his soul to the Warp, for his sins. He let out a sob.

"Ho ho! Fireball!" The wizard shouted as he threw a fireball at an Archer tower. It was already damaged enough that the attack caused it to collapse. As he did, a large group of balloons were summoned onto the battlefield. Of course, that was a mistake, he hadn't taken out the air defenses yet. Rushing ahead, he approached the air defense as it was firing at the incoming balloons. Without saying something witty, which was unusual for the handsome fire warrior, he started to throw fireball after fireball at the structure. Unluckily for him though, he managed to get too close to the clan castle. As the small army of archers headed towards him he was forced to shift his attention away from the air defense. "Boom!" he shouted as they got in range. However, he would never get to engage them directly. The world suddenly turned black as he found himself in an entirely different place. Unluckily for everyone nearby, the wizard had already launched the ball. It went flying down the hallway and impacted the far wall. A small explosion ensued as it melted a crater about a foot deep. "eh?" The wizard then looked around at his new setting with complete bewilderment. It didn't help that there was a P.E.K.K.A. looking around for something that wasn't there.

Sayaka was frantically patrolling the place. She had calmed down a little since the apparent demise of Tatsuya, but she remained worried, her eyes running across the structure of the large hall. "Who's going to die next?" she wondered. Naturally, her own life was the least of her concerns at the moment, but such bravado was not necessarily a mark of her selflessness, for she was merely ignoring whatever cowardice or selfishness hidden within her subconscious. Obtusity and a reckless attitude helped in such matters. “Quick question everyone! Does anyone have the current time as of now?” Such trivial questions lulled Sayaka into a sense of complaisance. She instinctively pulled up the cuff of her school uniform's long sleeve to look at her watch; a quick glance told her it was 6:34. She knew an analog watch was a dumb idea, but felt bad about not wearing it when her classmate, Hitomi Shizuki, had given it to her as a birthday present. Its face had the drawing of a cute anime cat across it; typical of Hitomi to pick something this sweet and fluffy. She sighed, once again, putting out the memory of her friend. When she looked up, she could had screamed were she not gasping for air. The one who had spoken to her before, the one who shared as eccentric a language as the big green ogre, had knelt on the ground and was about to pull the trigger on his head. There was no time to think, hence she merely reacted. A blast of sapphire light exploded from her ring for but half a second, and a picturesque swordswoman instantly stood in her place, with a white cape and a shoulderless blue top. Anyone watching the scene would think himself dreaming, for as instantaneous as her transformation was, she had disappeared from the spot just as quickly. Right before she zipped through the air and began diving in Gorrendil's direction, a blue magic circle of musical notes flashed in mid-air to help propel her across the room like a spring. She used to do this a lot slower, and one could even see with his naked eye the magic circle she had used for support - but not anymore, for she had trained herself to zip through so fast she might as well have teleported. "Not one more!" she screamed in her mind, just right when she shoved Gorrendil across the floor. Her panting matched the rapid acceleration of her heart-rate. She was not used to such high speed travel, despite all her training. As she slowly recovered from the pulse-pounding action that had just taken place, she struggled to turn her gaze towards the suicidal knight, hoping in her heart that she had saved at least one life tonight. "What the hell were you thinking?!" she yelled at the top of her lungs when she saw movement coming from Gorrendil, her furious eyes glaring at him as she awaited an answer. Having learned to control her temper and her heart-rate ever since her witch transformations, it didn't take long for her to regain her composure, along with her rationality. She realized that what she had spat out were yet again the words of a hypocrite - she had been suicidal once herself, after all. In fact, she had been suicidal throughout the numerous cycles of her reincarnation as Sayaka Miki the magical girl turned witch. Whenever a magical girl fell into despair, it was similar to a state of depression, only that one had no mental control over it, regardless of her willpower. When she had turned into that witch of despair, it was almost no different from cutting herself, over and over again, repeated through several lifetimes no thanks to the time-reversal performed by her 'good friend,' Homura Akemi. She knew, she had no right to complain. She was an idiot, possibly a bigger idiot than Gorrendil. But she knew what the experience was like, what the consequences were. After being resurrected through the kindness of the ex-goddess Madoka, she had the memories of her past actions restored - actions from every single time she turned into a witch and died. Madoka used to be an ordinary girl, but through the devious actions of some, Homura was forced to travel back in time repetitively to save her from becoming a magical girl, and inevitably, a witch. Unfortunately, said time-travel also caused events to repeat, events that involved Sayaka's heart being torn apart by a boy named Kyousuke, or her best friend, Hitomi, taking the boy she had loved since childhood from her, or her countless falling from grace that turned her into the monstrosity that was Oktavia von Seckendorff. "Don't waste your life..." she moaned, her tired eyes now staring at the ground instead. "I'm sure there are people out there who would be saddened by your death... Don't selfishly throw your life away."

The man explained to him that they were upgrades, and then started talking in words that the Joxter was sure only Hodgkins would really understand. Something about echoes and commercials? Geez, what a tech nerd. That wasn't the answer he was hoping for, but he didn't feel inspired enough to ask it in a different way. "What's with your...everything?" The man asked him. "Actually, what the hell are you? Are you some sort of species from Eden-6? Ooh...I hear they have some really weird crap going on over there." "Well, first off, I wouldn't know anything about what's popular in commercialism. I don't like it when people tell me to do something, much less some banner on a sheet of wood telling me to buy its shitty product. Secondly, I'm a Joxter and the Joxter, and I look accordingly." He paused for a moment. "...And I'm certainly not from some 'Eden-6.' What the hell is that, anyway? Where are you from? What do they call you?" When he heard a man shout, "Boom!" he looked over and saw exactly what he should've expected. A big boom. In the wall. Which was miraculously mending itself in front of his eyes, disorienting him. This place was...something else. So another person had materialized, hm?

Gorrendil was done. Emily. She still lingered in his heart. Her betrayal was too much. He remembered the screams. The blood. His death. Her death. And his escape. Their death. They were all killed. Every single one of them. The explosion rocked his world. And ended theirs. He squeezed the trigger. A force pushed against his chest, making him sprawl on the floor. 'Such power' thought Gorrendil as the unknown force sent him flying. His pistol was safely put in it's holster before he hit the ground. She screamed out. Gorrendil looked up to see the source of the voice. It was the Mon'keigh girl. "What the hell were you thinking!". Gorrendil smiled and looked at her eyes. Earnest and warm but broken all the same. "I took the Path of the Outcast. I should have been ready for loneliness. The Path of the Outcast is to be single. Alone. Away from home. To travel the galaxy with me, myself and I. I did not do this. I broke the rule. I met friends. I was going on the best adventures in my life. I met so many good people. I met a warp-damned nice Necron!" Gorrendil paused, tears still streaming from his face. "I met the love of my life." Gorrendil found the girl to be in deep thought. Her face said everything. She has committed this before. 'Poor girl. She has no idea of the galaxy beyond. The despair. The madness.' The Eldar contemplated his home galaxy. The endless war that scarred it. "Don't waste your life" The Mon'keigh was now looking down at the ground "I'm sure there are people out there who would be saddened by your death... Don't selfishly throw your life away" The Ancient Eldar started to speak. "Janus Tark. Lieutenant of the 117th Kademan Tarra Imperial Guard. My Brother. Dead." "Mara Lye. Former Servant of the Machine God. My Caretaker. Dead" "Lionus Cage. Sergeant in the 30th Harakon Drop Troops. My Guardian. Dead" "Nile Shivheart. Inquisitor in the Ordos Hereticus. My Leader. Dead" "Tarven Wilk. Storm Trooper attached to the 1st Arhissian Guard. My Best Friend. Dead" "Clementine Hirt. Adeptus Sororitas. My 'Save My Ass' Girl. Dead." "Dyniig Sate. The Scourge of Tarnis II. My Partner in Crime. Dead" "Emily Hart. My" Gorrendil choked up. "Lover. Dead" He looked at the Mon'keigh. "A fraction. A small fraction of who has died. They are all dead. There is no one to go back to. I now understand what my Elder told me." "To walk the Path of the Outcast is to be alone." It took all his power to smile. Weak. And small. "And now I am alone." He stood and towered over the girl. He looked down at her, tears streaming. "My name is Gorrendil of the Path of the Outcast. What is yours?"

It seemed that even though Alfonzo yelled decently loud enough for attention to be brought to a question he imposed on getting an answer to, no one who was there seemed to pay attention to it. All the ruckus and noises and BOOMS being made could be it, but Al still wanted an answer, even if it was a stupid question. Maybe it was because all of their worry was put into the desire for them to get out of this delusional predicament, and to be back where they came from. Their homes, their worlds, their………wherever it is that they all came from. Al’s head began another transcendental reign of thought as he quickly tried to figure how to get out of this place and wake back up in his own time and setting. Maybe instead of worrying about himself, for now, he could try and lend a hand to the others and help figure out a way out of this mess. But how? He knew that the jaguar and a couple of others had already headed towards the next room doing whatever they can to find a way out, yet the others are trying to figure out who’s who and what they are going to do next. Maybe Alfonzo could be of assistance for something. But what? Alfonzo lifted himself lightly off the wall, awaiting for someone to give an answer, but no one did. Instead, he made himself more presentable into the group by walking up to them, and pops the question one more time. “Hello? No one heard me? Does anyone have a clue on time as of now, because I don’t!”

In a way, Gorrendil's words reflected Sayaka's life. Though he had used jargon she was unfamiliar with, Sayaka felt that they were both looking at the same picture - a life of solitude serving an abstract oath, only to be crushed under the unreasonable demands. But there was a big difference between the knight and herself - his suicidal tendencies were spurred by the death of his loved ones, while hers came from the delusion that she was unloved. She bit her lips. The distinct irony that further revealed her hypocrisy stung Sayaka. Though she had long moved past that part of her life, and had since cherished the love her friends had given her, it didn't make her feel any less shameful about her past foolish ways, nor any less embarrassed about lecturing a man who obviously valued his friendship more than she did. "You are a better person than I am," Sayaka panted, brushing away the dust from her skirt as she stood herself up. "I'm sorry for your loss, Gorrendil. You love your friends and you appreciate them. It's a cliche platitude, but I know they would want you to live out your life, not join them in death." As she stared intently into the man's eyes, a reassuring smile gradually cracked through Sayaka's glower. "Trust me - I would know." She gave light nods to acknowledge the newfound friendship, and as she began walking away, returning to her patrol, she turned back and gave one last look with that same earnest, warm smile on her face. "By the way, my name is Sayaka. It's very nice to meet you." With a short, polite bow adhering to the traditional ethics of her people, she walked away once more.

The Ancient Eldar smiled at the Mon'keigh, now identified as Sayaka. He wondered what she meant. Gorrendil was always good at figuring out what one's words are. To find the underneath of the underneath. And he couldn't wrap his head around what Sayaka's words. 'A good friend to have. The future may not be as bleak as I thought' Gorrendil grinned and stood up, turning his laspistol's safety off. "Sayaka!" he started "I'm going to go back to the group, we need to move on!" The Outcast turned back to the first room. BOOM! Gorrendil sighed. Another arrival. He wondered how many more people are going to be dropped into this hellhole. The Eldar looked around the room and saw one more arrival. He outright laughed. "Your wearing a dress!" Gorrendil couldn't breath and he was red faced. He got up, still giggling and heard "Hello? No one heard me? Does anyone have a clue on time as of now, because I don’t!". "The time?" Gorrendil looked at his interface and saw the time. "Uhhhh, 2350 cycles of 340.M41"

Mizn had wonder into the theater room a couple of minutes ago and was busy scanning the room. The automaton looked around the room "Observation; by the style of this theater there should be a projector room nearby." The automaton began to search the back of the theater for a door.

Darkhunter glanced over his muscled shoulder while his whiskers twitched and his face wrinkled and morphed in a scowl... it probably looked a little silly. He pawed at the screen before he gave up and sat down with his head turned to face Ib, "I'm sorry, but I do not know your past, Ib. I saw your painting, but... I am not sure what to make of it without context. I saw the high points of my life in my pictures... yours... I am not so sure." A small paused to collect his breath, "You are most likely right. From what I managed to see earlier before my head was decimated by the light, this is no accident. I feel as if I am being played with..." he muttered something about that being ironic, then he gave a little sigh as his legs and body worked in conjunction to put him on his feet. Darkhunter started to sniff along the stage with his ears laid back along his head. His tail stuck up in the air and did a little serpentine dance as his paws fell silently onto the wood, and he kept using his nose to try to find something. He paced the stage but saw nothing and smelled nothing. Just a lot of nothing. The big feline stopped and looked about from where he had started as if he was trying to find something but gave up with a look to the young girl. Darkhunter asked, "Have any guesses on this puzzle? I am not overly fond of here, wherever or whatever here is." This was an understatement. All of his senses hated this. The lack of greenery was very unsettling, with not a single tree trunk or fern in sight. The empty void where birdsong, animals calls, and the constant, gentle song of the jungle once had been made him shifty and uneasy. His eyes still had issues with the unnatural light with focus problems and a washed-out view. The hard, strangely shiny wood under him made him walk funny and kept setting off alarms in his head. Where's the grass? Where's the cool water? Where's the dirt? That was all he heard. The smell was even worse. Nothing was right about it. It was... sharp, too sharp. Even his tongue was dry and felt strange. He was a tough hunter, though, and he kept those down as usual.

Ib glanced at Darkhunter before she sighed and sat down on the stage, legs kicking back and forth. "My parents took me to a museum filled with various works from an artist called Guertena. I wandered away from them, looking at the different pieces. I came to a large mural with lots of confusing colors and shapes. That's when the lights started flickering. I tried to find my parents but everyone had disappeared and the doors were locked. When I wandered back to the painting there were blue words stamped underneath it, telling me to come below. I followed the blue footprints to a floor painting called Abyss of the Deep. I fell in and wound up in an alternate universe where the artwork from the original Gallery came alive and tried to kill me. I was on my own for a while before I meet another person, Gary. He was trapped like me. We teamed up, having to solve multiply puzzles as we made our way through the different rooms. Soon we meet a girl named Mary. We had thought at first that she was another human but she was just a painting pretending to be. She wanted to get out but for her to do that one of us had to be left behind. When we discovered she wasn't human she went crazy and chased after us with a knife. We ended up in a world drawn by what looked like a kid. Mary found us and pushed into the toy box. It was there that she got ahold of Gary's rose." Here she pulled out her own rose and showed Darkhunter. "These are our life line. If a petal is ripped off we get hurt. Mary got Gary's. We followed after her but Gary suddenly collapsed. He told he to go one ahead. I did and found his rose with one small petal left. I went back to him but...but he wouldn't wake up no matter how hard I tried. I grabbed his lighter out of his pocket and when I turned to go find his rose some water I ended up here. That painting...that was Gary." She then fell quiet, staring down at the floor.

"The time? Uhhhh, 2350 cycles of 340.M41" said Gorrendil. Finally, Alfonzo got a response, but he had no clue to what the man had said to him, but he knew he was referring to the time, so it was somewhat of help to get his question answered. “Yes. 23.…..cycles of……..3.…something……what you said.” An awkward expression appeared onto Al’s face, confused on what information was given to him, then began to chuckle a little while talking under his breath. “I really need to wake up.” Alfonzo felt weird now just standing there, clueless of what to say next, even though this was a dream to him still, his social skills weren't of best efforts right now. Instead he decided to move on and find other interests to what the museum could bring, and see how in the world he could wake himself up in a safe approach. He didn't want to end up like the giant mush mouth guy or the magic man who got sucked out of the place, even if it wasn't real to him. He had to be ready for any type of precautions and make sure he was to control the situation no matter what it was. It was time for him to get out of here and get back into reality. IT WAS TIME TO GET SERIOUS! “I’m…….going to go this way ok?” Alfonzo said, excusing himself once more out of the individuals way, and heading down the hallway to see what was next.