@Letter Bee

---

Dr. Nightman did not laugh this time. To be fair, Ken had threatened to kill him twice in the span of a minute.

He sighed, "I don't know. Honestly. You're right, to a degree. I am a people person. Computers, technology, maintaining a website. I find these things dull, tedious, and impersonal. As for what you saw, well, perhaps an overeager employee who took the bad reviews personally, or... perhaps I'm just that good at my job." He did finally manage another smile by the end. "I suppose if nothing else is accomplished today, I'll know I need to be more vigilant with all aspects of my job here."

Despite the momentary lapse in his mood, one could not say that Nightman ever seemed worried by Ken's threats. Why, was impossible to say. Perhaps his poker face was simply masterful, or perhaps he was used to it from past patients.

"As for 'proving' myself, I'm not sure what you want. As you can see, I'm sitting here in this chair at beyond arm's length wearing a sweater-vest and loafers. I know in this world, even that proves little, but that's just it, isn't it? We've all been given gifts, and wonderous as they are, they've cursed us with the knowledge that anyone could have a dagger up their sleeve, so to speak." He chuckled again. "Even if they don't even have sleeves."

"I have been here, doing this, for many years, Ken. In a city with many of the most powerful people on this planet, all of whom could stomp me out in an instant. If I was hurting people, surely by now one of them would have done so." He kept his hands folded on his lap, not even trying to protect himself. "So, if you want to be that person because you've already made up your mind with regard to your suspicions, be my guest. I'll understand. I'll know what drove you to do so, but just know that outside these doors such actions have consequences. No one else will understand or believe that you thought you were protecting yourself. They would simply see it as murder."

"It's hard to prove the absence or something, Ken. I will simply look you in the eye and tell you that I have never once put a scratch on anyone who has come here before you," he told him, doing as he said. "When I was done with them, they walked back out the door just fine. Every time."

Ken to Dr. Nightman

The glow faded as Ken looked once more at Dr. Nightman’s eyes and listened to the tone of his voice… And found the truth (or what seemed to be). The boy tried to keep his shoulders upright, not slumping them, before he said, “If you’re willing to take the risk of me killing you, as you trust me enough to be a good person at heart, someone who won’t kill an innocent person, then I suppose I should take the risk of this being some sort of nefarious plan, which it might not be.”

Finally relaxing, Ken said to the doctor, “All right, now that we’ve established tentative grounds for cooperation and collaboration, what’s the first order of business? Which one of my issues do you want to tackle first?”

This would be the optimal moment for a trap, part of Ken’s mind whispered, but the confrontation had drained him of his mental energy and he found that he rather admired ‘Dr. Nightman’s’ bravery…

@KillamriX88@Dezuel@Lewascan2

"Simon then. You may address me simply as Reverio or Rev. It's the name I adopted as I came to Rhea. A crude attempt to cast off my origins, I admit, but wearing a different name can be a start of a new life. Even if your face and skin remain the same, names are important." The blonde motioned with his hand, as he viewed over Simon's bookcase again, every now and then switching between it and the doctor.

"When you find the time, perhaps you should look more into chess, more can be learnt from it than merely what moves to make. A glimse into another's mind." Rev explained, before finally approaching the chair he had been designated. Sitting down on it, crossing his legs as he did.

"Isn't all things of the future a result of an experience of the past? There must have been a defining moment where you decided that... 'This is where I want to be' right? Ofcourse such a calling take on different shapes from person to person, but ofcourse you are not wrong. Without a strong base, the tower shall crumble, alongside anyone in or near it." The foreigner allowed one of his gloved fingers to tap his own cheek softly whilst he spoke with Simon.

"None can ever be completely fullfilled with ones past, but in my case, no matter what I would have done, the future, which is now the present would have played out in a similar fashion. There are things we can control, and there are things which are beyond our reach. I am certain you've felt sometimes that, whilst your skills with people are without a doubt great, it may have sometime not been enough? Coming to terms and accepting the fact that there are limits is part of being human, don't you think? That there are things which you cannot change, such as human nature. We strive to the very best we can be, we forget many things of history and repeat it anew, we consume more than we have to... but even then, as long as there's hope there's light at the end." Reverio closed his eyes momentarily, offering a slight upturn at the corner of his lips, before his piercing blue eyes opened yet again.

"I do have a vision of a future, most people do, although I would think not many look too far ahead. Sometimes people get lost in the present and believe it will always be as it is, unchangeable and consistant in itself. The future I want is one where the experiences of my past will never happen again, not here or anywhere else. But as to which path along the way one ought to take in order to procure such a future, can be clouded by thick mist. I am no diviner after all. I desire a world free of poverty, war and all manner of tragic things. Where people like yourself would be out of buisness, due to all worries having been laid to rest. But to desire such a thing, and to be able to make it so are two different things.

After all... people desire to fight don't they? I am certain you've seen how enthralled some young people be in these tournament games and duels which this city holds. But ofcourse fighting isn't limited to just those things. You could for example also fight a battle of the minds, against yourself or against someone else who is your antithesis. Someone who opposes your future. After all, there are as many futures as there are dreams. Though sometimes paths align and become easier with others side by side." Rev softly exhaled, placing his hands together in his lap.

"What kind of future do you want, Simon?" He finally added, in a soft inquisite way, his piercing blue eyes looking right at him.

@Letter Bee@KillamriX88 @Lewascan2

Dr. Nightman -rather tactfully, Chinami thought- seemed to completely ignore the whole "king complex" thing. Probably a good idea all things considered; that was some lofty and overarching ambition to poke at, and someone who actually had some implied inkling that they thought they could obtain it was quite likely to be... passionate in that conviction. It was also, notably, one of -if not the only- aspect of the boy's speech that he did not offer some platitude or counterstatement for. He wanted the throne of Izumo, unironically, and he seemed to think he actually had a chance.

Dangerous.

Dr. Nightman instead focused on the topic of betrayal, and -given what his letter had proven he knew about her- Chinami was inclined to think he wasn't tossing around theoreticals in regards to betrayal and even threats on the boy's life. With the context that he was supposedly a potential inheritor for the Izumo throne and Doctor's lack of contesting that statement, it was easy to assume that the boy could have suffered assassination attempts in the past... understandably so if his ambition was so lofty. Honestly, if the boy were instead content to live quietly like that one prince from Vauquelin whose name was escaping her, then perhaps he wouldn't need to be so paranoid. What it boiled down to in the end was that his need for paranoia was likely in large part entirely his own fault, assuming he was such a loudmouth about his ambitions elsewhere.

Of course, Nightman's words and tone -as graceful as they were in the face of potential bodily harm- were merely ultimately a deflection, one the boy seemed to insist on bulling through, as he pursued the "reviews" topic. Chinami would personally admit to a certain level of burning curiosity on that matter as well. Certainly, in the boy's place, she might had pursed that line of questioning just as doggedly. Just...

She would have avoided incriminating statements like this yahoo was throwing around.

One forearm lain over her eyes, Chinami let out an extended whine of a groan in second-hand embarrassment, listening to this warped funhouse mirror of a person, as the boy started going on about some ridiculous "protagonist syndrome" while making absurd and frankly untrue statements about what he'd rather do than harm his "friends". If he really was in possession of such a mindset, the last thing he'd be truly concerned about, at the end of the day, was the feelings and concerns of others. "Protagonist" did not necessarily mean "hero", but this guy -the way he talked- seemed to believe that was the case. Granted, if his delusion centered around being a "hero", then he'd be unable to uphold that delusion -even for himself- if he didn't at least pretend to care about others. At the end of the day, it was all self-serving bullshit; after all, part of his narcissistic gratification as a "hero" was "helping" others to begin with. The only reason he cared was because it made him look like more of a "heroic savior" and gave him more chances to have praise and adulation leveled his way to feed his ego and confirm his bias.

He wasn't apologetic about his faults. He was merely pretending to be, simply because that made him look better, look like some sort of "tragic hero" trope who was "struggling against inner darkness". He was a snake, a social chameleon, who said whatever he thought others wanted to hear while pretending that he was someone that didn't give a rip about the opinions of others. The only reason he was being so bold with the doctor was that he was saying what he thought the Doctor wanted to hear. The reason it all sounded so disjointed was that this little snake was out of his normal depth, and he was stabbing about verbally to see what stuck, to test the social waters and determine how he'd have to tailor his approach.

He was scared. He had to be. That was why he was making such reckless threats. She could even sympathize in that respect. If she, herself, wasn't so rational and fully committed to filtering her rage and fear through the lens of "will this ruin my future prospects", she might have fallen into the same trap of her own making.

She bodily cringed when he threatened the Doctor overtly again and began to glow gold, for more than one reason. It wasn't just the threats themselves that offended her; it was the way he was going about them. Threats were only good if you upheld them, and he had already failed to uphold the conditions of his first one, reducing the credibility of any future ones, no matter how tough a front he put up. His genuine fear and weakness was obvious to even the halfway socially adept. And furthermore, the questions he wanted answers to were somewhat useless. There was no way to prove them right here and now, and worse, there was no telling what the Doctor's Gift was.

The unknown Gift, assuming he had one. That was Chinami's true concern. Everything else was secondary. Was it spiritual? Was it magic? Was it just straight-up a mysteriously unique divine system of influence in and of itself like her own? With her own "Gift" as the comparison, it was easy for Chinami to be incredibly open-minded and paranoid about the possibilities available to any given opponent. More than anything else about a potential confrontation, this was her concern, the idea that the Doctor would have a Gift, one that struck at her own "Gift's" weaknesses.

The fact the Doctor still seemed quite unconcerned where he sat nonplussed did not help her somewhat reduced anxiety. Dr. Nightman actually addressing exactly that concern of "anyone being a potential threat" right after didn't sooth her either. Nightman claimed he'd been doing this a while, effectively that he'd "seen some shit", which in all honesty could very well explain how blasé he was being about all this. He simply wasn't intimidated, full stop, or if he was, his poker face was truly one to be respected.

The boy seemed to finally get a clue that this wasn't going to end in his favor and backed down, making some last empty concessions and apparently trying to turn things instead into a conversation between "equals" with a relationship of "cooperation and collaboration". Too late. Far too late. His threats had been empty. His momentum had been lost. He hadn't discovered what his potential enemy's Gift was -or even if they had one at all. His opponent had effectively styled all over him the entire way through and might as well have t-bagged him socially. Truly, the power of an experienced psychologist in their element was one to be feared.

It was the verbal equivalent of watching a soldier halfway through the training program try to spar a decorated general and seriously expect to win. You never fought an enemy in their element, and the little snake was too inexperienced to realize that he'd played into the Doctor's hands every step of the way. Chinami, for her part, had recognized the futility of such a thing from the nearly the very start and had set about trying to change the game preemptively, not that it looked like her efforts would be necessary.

If there was one thing her observations here had fully crystalized, it was the resolve to never meet Nightman face-to-face, nor to so much as engage him in conversation. As things were, she could... believe that he wasn't an enemy, not an actively malicious one anyway, but if she played his game, he could make things very annoying for her indeed.

@KillamriX88 @Letter Bee @Dezuel

Alyona regarded the pigeon like she would any vermin, brushing off Cel's chipper greeting. "Consider yourself lucky, flying rat, that I don't want to bother destroying another's property today." She shooed the bird away, turning to watch it fly for a moment before returning to face Cel. "So there's actual organized fighting, then? I got my hopes up for nothing when I heard that scream. Or are sparring matches here not the type that ends in screaming?" Alyona would be the first to admit that her home country was not quite up to the same safety standards as Rhea.

There was a brief pause as Alyona looked over the school's interior, before she slowly turned back to Cel. "Wait. What happened to my homework?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

---

"H-Huh? Ve-" For some reason, Alexandria couldn't finish the name on her tongue. As the girl walked towards her, Alexandria could feel her heart pounding. Her body prickled with a cold sweat, and her covered eye began to throb with pain. She barely registered the sudden removal of her next fighting partner - who cared anyway? This was...

It was something Alexandria hadn't prepared for. She went out for this tournament to do something different, but she never considered Vera would be there. The murmurs of the crowd, yelling from some fans, it closed in on her. She felt like she couldn't catch her breath. 'E-Enough! Everyone needs to go away right now! I can't handle this all at once!' Her overwhelmed mind whirled, reaching out for a way to calm things down.

She grasped a card and wordlessly cast it, throwing the square of light underneath her. The spell was something she planned to use during the tournament, but she needed it now. The spell conjured a wall of ice shaped as Andras wished - it was enough for what she needed. Suddenly, the card glowed and grew into a ring around the two, and in a flash turned into a barrier separating them from the outside world. The crystal structure only showed the distorted figures of the Midnight tournament and reduced the sound of voices to a much lower drone.

"V-Vera?" Alexandria managed to say. She couldn't think of what to say next. Ask what had happened? Where Wolf was? What she was doing there? ...Why didn't she ever visit...? Alexandria shook her head gently, a tear rolling down her cheek. She couldn't ask that. It can't be the first thing she says to her friend.

But she still wanted to know.

"I-It really is you... Vera?" Alexandria closed the last bit of distance between them with a hug. It was something she had played out in her mind so many times... It didn't quite feel real. It felt like she was still imagining it, like she was stuck in her head still. Alexandria's throat felt too tense to say more - if she tried, she might just end up crying. She hoped the embrace would do some of the talking for her.

---

Vera was astonished by the sudden wall of ice. The Alex she knew couldn't do that. Was this really her? But, eyepatch aside, everything fit.

She hadn't even gotten that much taller.

And, more importantly, no one else would have reacted this way. No one else would have cared. She held the smaller girl close, clutching her tight to her chest and kissing the top of her head.

Vera couldn't help but laugh even as her voice broke, "Y-you still smell that that bargain brand strawberry junk..." she hiccupped. It was really her. Nothing else mattered for the moment. The ice wall, the crowd, all her questions. None of it.

But, then the moment passed.

"AHEM!" The MC boosted the volume so his voice could pierce past the wall of ice. "I'm going to assume there's a touching reunion of some sort going on in there, but we ARE trying to hold a tournament here!"

Right. The tournament. This stupid tournament was where she'd found Alex.

These people, this crowd, had all seen Alex before she had.

Vera suddenly pulled away from her, "What are you doing here, huh?"

CRACK!

Outside, others were battering down the wall of ice.

"How long have you been awake? When were you gonna tell us? Why was this more important, huh!?" Vere's face was still stained with tears, but now she just looked angry.

CRACK! BAM! CRACK!

Vera just stood there, fists and jaw clenched tightly as the wall came crumbling down.

"OK! About time! Now, if we could just get things going ag-"

"You wanted a fight, right?!" Vera suddenly shouted, interrupting the MC. She walked to the other end of the arena from "Andras" and raised her fists. "Well why not?! That's why we're all here isn't it?" This time, she just glared into Alex's eyes.

"You know what? Screw it. Disqualifications are lame and this shit's better than a soap opera! Have at it, girls!"

Michael was curious to see how Andras' next match would go. It would be interesting to see what others cards Andras would use, hoping to gain some inspiration for other applications of his Symbolism. Unfortunately, it seemed there would be unforeseen developments as a pink-haired girl came onto the stage and knocked out Andras' opponent with little effort. What's more, the girl seemed to know Andras, and was shocked to see her for some reason. This puzzled Michael. Back when Andras was still recovering from her coma, she had briefly mentioned something about past friends, but could never get any more details than that. Now it feels Andras' history was catching up to her.

Michael raised a hand in opposition to Parker's protest. "I say let her stay," Michael argued. "Anyone with eyes can see that nothing about this was planned. And besides, anyone who could get knocked out that easily wasn't going to be much of an opponent anyway. We all saw how easily Andras took out her first opponent, why would she need to cheat now?"

Michael then tried to peer through the ice dome, still curious about Andras' history. She was never willing to share, and it had caused her great distress anytime Michael tried to probe into it, so he kept a respectable distance from the topic. Now it seems there was an opportunity to get some answers.

Michael was originally going to put in a little effort and make a hole in the dome. Others, however, were not so patient and broke down the ice first. Michael was also going to ask a few questions of his own, but Vera's fiery temper caused him to stay his tongue. He wisely decided that he would wait until tensions died down before he would ask anything, especially as it now seemed that Vera would be Andras' new opponent.

Alexandria was stunned for a moment at the sudden change in Vera's tone. Tears welled up in her eyes again. "W-What? You're asking that now?!" The image of Vera's face flashing with anger triggered... something. She couldn't remember where it came from. It wasn't from when she was awake, Alexandria felt.

The murmur of the crowd coming back to front and center snapped Alexandria out of her thoughts. She wiped her face. Her gut felt twisted with anxiety, but she grit her teeth and ignored it. 'You idiot, Vera...' She thought. The burning of shame she felt at Vera's last question flared into anger. 'You didn't even want an answer, did you? Did you just ask that to hurt me? Will fighting communicate for you better?!' She couldn't back down now. As silly as it may seem, Alexandria- Or rather, Andras had a reputation to build. She couldn't go down without fighting. She wanted to become a known fighter - a demon in the ring.

Andras's cards flashed into existence around her, and she grasped a spell and quickly cast it - a flurry of cards stretched out before her, and her eye scanned them all in an instant. There were the tools to win, here. She could see it. The cards flickered away. "You..." Andras cleared her throat. "Your challenge is accepted." She had a trump card. But she needed to use her other options first. "I hope you're ready..."

Andras quickly flicked a card towards Vera - it was a minor spell, essentially a warning shot. The card cast itself into a bolt of sparkling energy, streaking towards Vera. Andras knew the spell wouldn't hurt too badly if it hit - not much more than a solid punch - but it would send the message that she wasn't going to hold back to Vera.

She deserved that much.

@Crowvette

"An unfortunate case of waste management failure, hun. And you just spared the culprit." Celestine replied with a smug smirk, as she looked at the door once more. It looked sturdy.

"As for the screaming... It wouldn't be out of place on this school of tryhards. It is like having an entire school of Sashas, as you described her." The umbrella started to glow as the androgynous being started to spin it.

"Then again, we oughta help, no? Even if it is sparring this is the kind of place for some good old vandalism. Beats the stock market or telling Parker to do errands." They grinned confidently, as the jagged lines of Reinforcement Magic appeared on the umbrella... seconds before Celestine tossed it like a javelin against the door.

BOOM. The sturdy door was blow off its hinges, the vandal girlboy smugly proud of their work.

"After you, her ladyship." Celestine added as a retort.

---

@KillamriX88
Wolf kept running through the halls, eyes darting to see anything out of the norm but no avail. It seemed deserted, only shadows dancing in the walls as he went by...

And then one of the shadows grew bigger and bigger... Something about to fall on top of Wolf.

That stopped at the last second.

The Clausewitz 3rd Year known as Kiwi the Librarian for her gentle yet dutiful demeanour, and her penchant for books was in the way.

"Ummm... It's dangerous out there. You should not run in the halls. If you are so kind. Please... umm. You might get hurt." She fidgetted, trying to keep Wolf out of harm's way. An action interrupted by a loud wrenching noise.

"It's the front door..." Kiwi said, and decided to switch priorities, skittering fast with her spider legs.

---

"I think a test would be a good way to start," Nightman said to Ken. "The ability to relax is very important. If one is in a state of alertness and paranoia at all times, it's incredibly stressful. Unhealthy. So, I'd like to try a form of guided meditation to see if it's possible to put you into a relaxed, meditative state. Depending on how hard it is, or if it is indeed possible at all, it will give me some insight into your overall mental and emotional state. After all, this room is hardly your comfort zone, so it will be good to see how you respond."

Over the next few minutes, Ken would be directed to close his eyes. It wouldn't take long for the guided meditation to take effect. It was a sort've... sinking sensation. As if the world around him had slowly melted away and he'd dropped away from it. He'd soon realize he hadn't been removed from the world, so much as plunged into his own mind

It was there the pain of his past would come back. The unpleasant memories, the betrayal, the suspicions and paranoia. His own self-loathing. It all encircled him, boxing him in like a cage, suffocating him. He could not lift a finger to pull himself back out, nor open his eyes to bring back the outside world.

It was all his darkest moments brought back to him all at once, unburied and now brought before him in stark clarity.

Then, slowly, it all lessened, leaching away. Hot anger cooled and bitterness abated. Memories could be gazed upon without digging up vile emotions until those memories blew away like smoke on the wind. He was left only with a warm feeling of serenity. It was a contentment that asked for nothing...

Back in the waking world, the doctor sighed at the now sleeping boy. He stepped over and nudged his shoulder, but he was for the moment beyond rousing. He then turned and exited the room. He should tell someone to see to the boy while he prepared for his next patient... but then he felt something.

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a note. No sooner had it appeared there, he had gone for it.

"You know," he spoke, turning his gaze toward the ceiling, picking the exact spot Chinami currently sat, "most doctors quite frown upon voyeurism during their appointments. It's quite the breach of privacy. Did you learn what you wanted? Perhaps you'd like to discuss the contents of this note face-to-face? I feel there's quite a bit we should discuss."

For a moment, it would have been almost paralytic, the act of him staring seemingly straight through her despite the fact that a moment ago, she might have assumed he had no idea she was in the building, let alone in that exact spot. Whatever it was about his stare, it was just enough of a distraction that the warning bells set off by her enhanced senses would come to her just a moment too late.

"Ahem." A man cleared his throat from behind her. He was a bit younger looking than the doctor, and wore a suit rather than the comfortable attire of said doctor. "I don't believe you should be here. This area isn't for patients. Please, let me take you downstairs." He said please, but it clearly wasn't a request...

---

@Dezuel

---

"This is true," Nightman nodded to Reverio. "The satisfaction of a reward is often greatest when one had to work to achieve it. I often wonder if people as they are now were granted paradise if they would even be satisfied with it. After all, there are no highs if they are not in contrast with lows."

At this point, the session was beginning to feel more like a philosophical discussion.

"What future I want? Well, I suppose being out of business wouldn't be so bad. If I could retire knowing there was no more work to be done, I'd be happy. Much better than burning out or simply running out of time knowing my services were still needed. Who knows if I'll be happy knowing I simply did what I could, yet, what else can I do?"

"So... this paradise you dream of yours, it indeed runs into that conundrum of contentment without strife and beyond that is rather lofty. Perhaps truly unattainable, at least for the foreseeable future. Would you be happy simply doing what you could, even if that came up short? Or, perhaps, is your actual goal something more humble? After all, many speak of world peace, and yet I think very few actually can truthfully claim for that to be their end goal. And, pessimistic as it may sound, I think fewer still keep those goals in the end."

-Edited out with permission from the GMs-

"Your reasoning is sound, Simon, those who take time to nurture a seed into a tree yields the greatest rewards when it is finally fully grown. Be it the fruits it provide or merely having seen it grow..." Reverio nodded in agreement, before he took a slight breath and continued.

"I don't think people would be satisfied with a paradise no. Because people always desire more, whatever 'more' may be. But to one such as I, having a seemingly unobtainable goal that you can envision in your mind is greater than lacking any vision at all. If you lose track of your dream, you will also lose yourself along the way. That's why power corrupts, because the old needs are replaced by new far grander ones. Yet if your original dream is one that is above all else, then you will no doubt retain yourself. And being yourself is important, no matter what masks you may chose to wear in front of others." Reverio allowed a soft smile to decorate his lips, his head leaning forwards slightly, his blonde hair falling down to cover his eyes momentarily. The young man's eyes slightly shaded by the shadows cast.

"To have humble goals will make you look for the next goal once the first is reached, and thus you will never truly be content nor satisfied. I think it is far easier to be content and satisfied in the fact that ones greatest dream and wish won't likely come true at all, and to live knowing that. Yet that doesn't stop that feeling does it? Hope. That someday, you might be able to find the key, to open that final door, to make all your wishes and dreams come true." The young man allowed his head to slowly rise and his eyes set on Simon.

"My brother had a dream too, but likely a different one than mine. When the blade fell down, he was content. I was there after all, in the crowd, amidst all the people which screamed for his death. And yet he saw me, hooded and cloaked as I were. He was smiling. Perhaps at fate itself, or at the wheel of destiny. But I have no doubt that he was content. One can only hope to experience such oneself, right?" The blonde closed his eyes and offered a soft smile towards Simon, before slowly opening his eyes again, brushing off his pants abit with his gloves. His memories came back to him, of a time before his brother's death, before Vauquelin burnt with rebellion.



"This meeting has been clear as a clarion's call, I hope my answers have been of use to you, Simon? But now, I believe it is time for me to bid my leave. Perhaps next time we can play abit of chess?" Reverio rose up from his seat, his hand momentarily rose to his waist, before he allowed it to slide back down in a relaxed manner.

@Letter Bee@KillamriX88@Lewascan2

With her resolve solidified, the desk of the room she lurked within swiftly yielded a sheet of notepaper. Smiling, Chinami returned to the center of the room and crouched down, her Spirit leaving a single foot extended up to her floor while continuing to keep watch of the lower. Placing the paper in physical contact with her Spirit, Chinami exhaled another bead of the stress she'd been carrying all day, as a multitude of visions bloomed before her again.

Humming near-inaudibly to herself, the Goth browsed carefully for the version of the paper that she desired, a version where she had written a personalized note to Dr. Nightman, a note that would thoroughly convey her unwavering position. As she did so and the meeting continued below, she slowly whittled the options down, word by word, idealizing her choice as much as possible. Eventually, she found it, and a quick twice over of the contents got her stamp of approval.

Yes, this one would do nicely. She allowed the transformation process to pause, holding off on applying it, as she intended to enforce a change of location as well with this same usage, hopefully placing the letter in a place the doctor would notice.

Refocusing her attention on the room below, Chinami noted with some unease the slumped form of the brunet boy. That was... odd. Her Spirit squinted its enhanced vision at the boy, as her gut clenched uncomfortably. He was asleep. What? Everything she'd seen about this boy thus-far had indicated he was the type to stay fairly wired, especially after that confrontation. She'd barely focused her attention away for a minute or two to conserve energy, and yet, he was somehow pacified? Where had all that energy gone?!

Chinami's thoughts raced along at an accelerated pace in the face of her alarm, as Doctor Nightman stood and seemingly checked on the boy, before heading towards the door. Even if she wasn't paying direct attention, her Spirit still fully committed what it experienced to her own memory, and what it had seen minutes ago was the Doctor leading the boy through something he referred to as "guided meditation"... something that apparently worked with genuinely unnatural speed. As far as she knew, people that atagonistic and high-energy did not take to meditation so easily!

Fuck, the Doctor did have a Gift... likely a mental one. It made too much sense. Even if it weren't being used maliciously, it made way too much sense for a therapist to have something like that. If he'd been around as long as he claimed, then the odds were frankly quite low that he had survived without one while talking to so many volatile people with his current highly invasive -near directly antagonistic- manner of drawing them to him. Such a Gift was frankly way too useful, way too appropriate for his line of work.

Something was wrong. Or was it? Chinami didn't know anymore, but her instincts -or perhaps paranoia- were screaming at her. Swallowing thickly, Chinami shook her head. No, it didn't matter. All she had to do was deliver the letter and exfiltrate. She didn't have room to worry about other people right now, and besides, perhaps she had misjudged the sleeping boy in her analysis. Perhaps he was experienced with meditation. Maybe he'd come here while already exhausted and stressed; it would certainly explain his irrational behavior. Whatever the case, it wasn't her problem.

As Nightman opened the door, Chinami allowed the transformation to complete, the letter taking its new form for the next three hours and placing itself in the Doctor's pocket. Immediately, alarm bells were sounding in her head, as the Doctor reached for his pocket with almost prescient precision, withdrawing the letter no more than a moment after its placement. On the one hand, she had expected perhaps the appearance of the letter's bulk might alert him or the crinkling sound of it in time with his movements, but the way he reacted-!

Yeah, fuck this.

As she began to retract her Spirit fully back to her side, things got even worse. A cold hand of dread took hold of the Goth's heart, as Nightman turned and focused his eyes unerringly upon the position she resided on the floor above. A mental Gift with a sensory aspect?! He was addressing her directly now. No names had been used, but she had every reason to suspect he knew exactly who she was! Even through her raw panic, something about his words nearly stupefied her with indignity. "Voyerism?" Her Spirit voiced aloud in disbelief. "Privacy?" it all but spat at Nightman, only its head still extending to the room below. "You're one to talk. The well between us has already been irreversibly poisoned by your arrogance," it hissed, as Chinami squeezed her eyes shut to suppress the fresh swell of fury at the hypocrisy, her very soul voicing some of the anger she could normally withhold. She'd already switched gears to a more peaceful resolution; if she switched tracks again now and impulsively acted on emotion, she'd go even further over the line than she'd originally planned! "And on that note, no, I don't think we will."

Chinami startled, as the door to her hiding place opened in time with the retraction of her Spirit. She'd let her guard down! Immediately rectifying that state of affairs with the extension of her soul protectively enveloping her body, the Goth inwardly seethed, as her heart pounded in freshly renewed fear. Indeed, in the face of a man that almost had to possess a mental Gift to be where he was today, the very prospect of being anywhere near him... of him potentially rifling through her head and messing with who she was... It suddenly filled Chinami with a genuine mortal, existential terror that swept through her body, practically stealing her breath away.

It was good that she was already crouching on all-fours, because if she had been standing, the shivers that abruptly made her body subtly tremble might have put her there. She could barely perceive the voice of the new man in the suit, as her heart thundered in her ears. But through her Spirit's own uncompromising awareness... she comprehended enough. She- She wasn't a patient! Fury intermingled with her fear, as her abruptly wounded Pride flushed her system clean enough to act. She hadn't lost sight of her goal, and right now, that was to escape!

To her accelerated vision alone, it was as if dozens of ghosts of her true body took form within the room... all too many of them impulsively taking violent actions, presumably against the man who had entered. Really, all that emphasized for her was just how on edge she already knew she was, that so many of her possibilities were resorting to violence so quickly. But several were in various stages of heading backwards towards the window...

Damn it all.

She'd miscalculated badly, and there was no way to retrieve the letter now without undue risk. The Doctor knew she could teleport things now. Rather, if the speed of his awareness and likely mental Gift were any clue, he'd have to be an ignoramus not to. In that case, there was no point in concealing the ability from his possible subordinate. The worst person possible to find out in this building already had. All that said, there was absolutely no reason for her to continue to allow him to change the game on her.

Chinami reached out to those possibilities of herself, of the other hers that had ignored all this nonsense and risk and stayed home for the day, safely in her room. Even without being able to see the location, she was familiar enough with it, with the feeling of the potential changes she could manifest there. She reached out for the shade of herself, connected it to her current existence and made to fuse with her choice.

@KillamriX88 @Letter Bee @Dezuel

---

Wolf skidded to a halt at the sudden appearance of Kiwi. She was one of the few students at the school that didn't bother him, but they were in separate years so that rarely did him much good except for when Wolf spent time in the library.

"Dangerous? Wh-" Wolf didn't even get to finish the question before a resounding bang caused him to flinch in alarm. A bang Kiwi quickly identified as coming from the front door. "What the hell is going on today...?" Wolf mumbled before shifting gears to follow her. All this moving around and startling noises wasn't doing his head any favors, but he was one of the few people left in the school at the moment, so in a way he felt it fell upon him to investigate.

When they arrived, the front door had been taken clean off its hinges and two people he didn't recognize had made use of the fact.

Wolf could only blink in confusion, looking from the door, to the two girls(?), the the door, and back to the girls(?). "Why... did you...?" Honestly, the thing that confused him the most, is that these two in theory had nothing to do with what he'd heard before, unless they were coordinating an attack on the school.

However, he just didn't get that vibe from them. Then again, with his ongoing migraine, maybe he wasn't in the best state to be judging people based off of "vibes."

He gingerly shook his head, "Ugh, look, if you're here to cause trouble just say so, otherwise I have bigger problems to deal with..." Probably. Not that he could say what they were. But he'd definitely heard screaming and Kiwi had said the halls were "dangerous."

Alyona

Alyona evaluated Wolf with a cold glance. 'Probably wasn't the one who screamed. Maybe. Could be a girly screamer.' The thought made Alyona smile slightly. 'He looks like he gets pushed around a lot. A little more from me wouldn't hurt.'

Alyona spoke up, putting on a friendly tone for Wolf. "Of course we are not here to cause trouble! We are here to fix the trouble. Now what is the trou-" As she talked, her eyes wandered from Wolf to... the thing next to Wolf. Her smile froze into a clear visage of surprise, and moments later Alyona jumped behind the doorframe, shouting something (probably obscene) in her mother tongue. "Cel! That one is even larger than the cockroach I saw in the shower a week ago!" She braced against the wall, and raised her voice to talk to Wolf again. "Boy. Do not turn around now. There is a very large bug behind you." She manifested a lance of black energy in her hands. "I will fix. You will owe me."

Suzakura Plagerzes

Midnight tournament



The pink eyed bully strolled through the crowd, his hands in his pockets as he passed by some people watching the ongoing fight between Vera and Alexandria. It didn't bother him the slightest that he was walking right in the way of some people, even shoving some to the side.

'Well shit, looks like little Dickie is out playing with the big boys tonight. Heh.. Let see how far that anger will get you this time, Bozo!' The grey haired young man grinned momentarily on his way over towards the DJ, with the intent to change the music into something more suitable. Upon arriving to the DJ, he very casually shoved the cap wearing guy with the large golden neck-chain, off his chair, causing him to fall into the crowd below.

"Out of the way you useless piece of chickenshit, this aint some old people's party or a friggin´ funeral... Time to get this party going for real! Knock it and sock it! Yeaaah!" He yelled out and switched the song being played to something else, before he started to headbang in rhythm to it.

"That's more like it! Get in with that midnight mania! Let see you shake it! DJ Degenerator is in the house! Awooooooo! Shoutout to my girl Chinami-san! Big kisses to ya! And hey to all the cool guys! Even the not so cool guys like little Dickie Parker whose fighting with the big boys tonight! Woo!" Suzakura yelled into the DJ mic, before turning up the bass further, just in time for the original DJ to climb back up, with his sunglesses tilted to the side and broken.

"Oh come on, take a hint dumbass!" Suzakura said to the guy's face, pulling down his cap over his face as he got closer, then he gave a kick to the guy's leg, causing him to fall down, and roll off the ramp back down into the crowd. The pink eyed young man brushed his own hand off against oneanother, like a dusty worker after a long day of hard labor.

'That's gotta do it, time to slide back to the vantage point, gotta see my milkshake dispenser, maybe she can knock the shit out of Pinky Parker.' Suzakura twirled his head about abit, placing his hands behind his neck and walked back the way he originally came.

"Hey Mina, are they done yet?! I ain't got all day waiting to see little Dickie getting his ass handed to him!" He motioned towards the large bovine girl a distance away from him, as he gradually strolled closer. Along the way there were various people chatting loudly with each other, one in particular ended up standing right in the way. What a damn bother.

"Listen I need you to get down there and grab-" A seemingly younger boy in noble clothes was talking to his much taller friend about someone. Suzakura couldn't give a damn. He began pushing a smaller boy out of the way by moving down on of his hands to plant it in the boys face, pushing him backwards over some bench until his body vanished inbetween a group of people, with his friends going after trying to find him, he could only hear the boy screaming.

"Adam! Help me up you fucking idiot and get that bastard who pushed me!" The voice of the boy soon became muffled by the music and the other people screaming and cheering, looking at the spectcle in the arena.

"Yo. I fixed the music problem, you got anything to drink?" Suzakura smirked and walked up right next to Mina, crossing his arms and looking down at the arena. Much like he often would look down on most other people. Mina was ofcourse an exception, but that was due to her size and also her being part of the same school. Only the tough could last in it.

"You know, Mina. It ain't easy being this kind of guy for any other guy, you know the cool, charming and polite. But I think I got it nailed down perfectly. " The greyhaired young man stretched his arms slightly and looked to Mina and then to the fighting going on.

@AtomicNut

@Crowvette@KillamriX88

"You..." Whatever Alyona had said, it seemed that it had stirred something between the Clausewitz third yeard, who wasted no time in shielding the junior student with her body."I'm not the Tsar's Huge Ass spider. My name is Kiwi... and You're trespassing. Now would you kindly depose that attitude? As you have said... there is trouble." The spider girl seemed to shuffle so slightly, her massive body taking a fighting stance.

And then she let a small shriek, her entire body losing all the poise of moments ago upon seeing the person next to Alyona.

"...The BANE? Out of all people why are you here?!" Kiwi said, scared out of her mind.

Celestine just shook their head, as she gently touched Alyone to stay down."Just being a good samaritan, fuzzy butt. Now be a little dear bug thing, and show us the real problem you idiots have. I'm getting bored. And I'm begining to understand six legs like last time wasn't enough." The agent of chaos and mayhem stated, a grin ear to ear manifesting as they summoned her reinforcement powers."I want new toys to play. if you fail to show it, that hungover boy does show promise. Well me and Aly. Idiot Parker is still fighting to get me a nice present elsewhere."

It was at this point that Kiwi bit her lip so hard that droplets of poison fell into the ground. "Right...This way. But know if you try something..." She began to turn her back at the duo. "We will answer in kind."

"Now you owe me, Alyonna. How could you call this poor spider girl a bug. Diplomacy, Diplomacy!"

---

Dr. Nightman's lips twitched as Reverio closed his eyes. Ah, there it was.

He waited quietly, patiently, as the boy reminisced silently for a moment. He then tried to leave.

"Ah, no rush, child. Your appointment has barely begun, not that I'd keep you longer than you desired to stay. It's quite normal for people to hit a point where they need to walk away for a bit. However, if you could indulge me just a moment longer, there's something I'd like to try. It may even help you a bit before you go. You see, one of my best tools is a form of guided meditation. I like to gauge my patients' receptiveness to the technique during the first visit, so I may better plan how to proceed, and you did just suggest you might wish to come back. Humor me for a moment and in return I'll brush up on my chess skills." He smiled and urged the boy to sit back down.

His professional skill seemed to become apparent quickly. Reverio would feel himself sinking away from the world. It wasn't entirely unpleasant at first, but shortly after he would have struggled to call it helpful. The uncomfortable feelings from his memories, the feelings that had perhaps driven him to try and leave the room, surged back and wrapped around him, dragging him under faster than before.

It was like being sucked into a suffocating void... but once there those feelings began to lessen. It became more comfortable, and perhaps then the benefit of the meditation would begin to become apparent. He had simply needed to push through it. A feeling of warm contentment settled over him, like a heavy blanket.

Something in him resisted.

It was peaceful.

Still it resisted.

Serene.

It fought back all the same.

But it was meditation. What could there be to fight against?

. . .

Nightman stepped out of the room, leaving Reverio peacefully asleep in his chair.

"Any sign of her?" he asked, seeing the man in the suit waiting.

"No. Wherever she went off to when she vanished, it wasn't in the building." The man shook his head. "I searched everywhere, including the perimeter outside. She wasn't there, so I came back and dealt with the first boy while you were with the other."

"I... see. I almost wonder if you shouldn't have done that. The girl is a wild card. More so than I ever anticipated. It took so little to antagonize her. That kind of volatility could be very dangerous. Should you see her again, she is best left to me. I won't have my work here put in jeopardy."

"Understood."

As the fusion resolved, for a brief moment, Chinami felt the all too familiar unnerving sensation of almost being in two places at once for a period in time. And then the moment passed, and she was curled up atop her bed in a fetal position. Alone, safe at least, she couldn't stop the trembles of terror from turning into body-wracking shakes, as she sucked wind, struggling to breathe. Her vision almost felt blurred, even though it was likely more down to the low light of her room.

You're having a panic attack, Chinami, some clinical part of her noted. You need to calm down. Stop. Think. This isn't the first time. You know the exercises, and you know what to do. Use them, dammit!

The trembling Goth, still gasping for breath, uncurled herself and shakily sat up, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, as she forced herself to stop. Against every instinct her body was throwing at her, she held her breath briefly, before placing a hand on her stomach and paying attention to how it moved. Normally, when one inhaled, their stomach would bulge out, while the inverse happened on an exhale. The breathing exercise required one pay attention to that process and deliberately invert it, sucking their stomach in on inhale, pushing it out on exhale. Slowly. Steadily. Always keeping in mind that the struggle for oxygen was an illusion, one they could break through.

In... Out...

In... Out... In... Out...

In... Out... In... Out... In... Out...

In... Out... In... Out... In... Out... In... Out...

In... Out... In... Out... In... Out...

In... Out... In... Out...

In... Out...

After all too long, her breathing steadied. Oxygen flowed freely and sweetly once more, and Chinami simply spent several minutes... just... being. Just existing. Living. Breathing. Listening to herself. To the thump of her steadying heartbeat. To the world. The sound of a city on the edge of night.

This. This was real meditation.

This was what she practiced early on, to quell the memories of being hunted like an animal. This was how she learned to be in tune with her own body, with its ebb and flow. This was hers. It was precious. And it was nothing like what that damned Nightman was doing!

Chinami honestly couldn't help her heartbeat accelerating a little at the mere thought of him. A potent cocktail of fear and hate churned within her... Hate? Yes, she determined after a moment's thought, she hated that man, more than she'd hated anyone in a long while. In fact, she couldn't recall when she'd last truly hated another living being at all. Dr Nightman had invaded her privacy, threatened her, had the gall to be annoyed by her returning the favor, and he had humiliated her in a way no-one had ever managed before. She'd fucking cracked under his pressure, under his schemes, and now?

He had truly wounded her Pride.

Now she was supposed to run away and leave him be?

Chinami's body grew hot, her Gift writhing and all but howling in rage beneath her skin. On the one hand, her letter had said she wouldn't return, and she would feel filthy breaking her word, a word that she damn well didn't give so easily! But was the hit to her Pride from breaking her word worse than the hit she'd suffer not retaliating against that absolute Bastard? Would she really be content now, merely running away to Mephisto's and avoiding him? Would that even truly protect her?

No. Not at all.

If he was determined to target her, someone like him with a mental gift would only need to catch her off-guard once, and it was all over. He could go after her on the streets. He could come after her at home! He could go after her mother. Nowhere was safe as long as he lived!

"Dammit!" she hissed out, slumping onto her bed, her clasped hands pressed against her forehead. "Mother fucking damn it all!"

She... she didn't want to kill him. Well, she did, but she didn't want to step out of line, didn't want to abandon the rules of society she'd so strictly adhered to up till now. All she wanted was a Quiet Life! Was that really so much to ask?!

Then she remembered.

The subtle threat. The real and true promise in her letter. While she'd claimed she wouldn't return, she'd also declared an absolute truth! She was always one to shy away from conflict, one who shied away from using her powers to their truest terrible potential. She sought peace... but she was always prepared for war. Should she be faced with a fight she could not avoid, a true threat, there was nothing she could do except her absolute best. Yes, if Nightman wanted to prey upon her... he'd find himself to have another thing coming.

Her body was trembling with something new, something she'd not experienced in all too long.

Anticipation.

For too long, she'd held back. For too long, she had bottled up every possibility dancing on her fingers, all the greatest and most terrible ways to remake this world in her own image, to have the very fabric of creation dance to her whims. For half a decade, she had suppressed those temptations, knowing they had every risk of quickly developing within her a god complex or the like. Utter foolishness, of course, considering the existence of the actual Gods, but she knew the risk was there. And she had no desire to succumb to such delusions.

She had told Nightman that she would face the unavoidable with everything she had. Unfortunately for him, he now qualified.

Her Spirit enveloped her body, as options bloomed in her mind's eye. She didn't know what Nightman's Gift was. That was a problem. Further, she didn't know if the man in the suit also had a Gift, potentially a different flavor of mental as well. Or worse, what if he had some kind of Gift or magic suppressing ability? Chinami's brow furrowed, as she shuffled through her alternate presents, the alternate existences of her body, mind and soul.

She was down two out of her typical ten charges that she could safely use in a short period of time. Technically, she could go further, but that carried... risks to her health. And if she were to allow herself to push further, she would fall into the trap of thinking, "oh, just one more usage couldn't hurt" and fall to her own hubris. Right now, she had lost one charge from ritualistically transforming both the letter and the building. Given the fact that she'd taken the time to do so carefully, she had put less strain on her body and used up the equivalent energy of a single panicked change... like her teleportation.

So, she was down two out of ten, and what she was looking to do was imbue herself with immunities to potential threats. On the surface, blanket immunity to a single thing almost sounded simple, but on a metaphysical level, that was extraordinarily far from the case. As it happened, even if she did it ritualistically, the changes would still cost her a single charge's worth each, even if she did multiple at once.

Grimacing, Chinami also acknowledged that... she was on a time limit. If she took too long, Nightman would have more time to work his schemes on at least two captives, the boy in the room and the one she'd seen entering from the roof. In this matter, the matter of free will and mental sovereignty being violated? In perhaps that matter alone, she could always genuinely empathize with and seek to save others. That was her moral line in the sand, and among what few firm ones she held, it was the most absolute. So, she had little time, and she was going to need to do a rush-job mass change. She had time to do a single ritualistic change, so that would have to do.

Inhaling slowly, Chinami held her breath for a moment, finalizing her choices, before seeking out a meshed singularity of them, and single possibility that covered all her needs. Exhaling, she began. "Psychic immunity." For obvious reasons. It would protect her mind and body. "Absolute presence concealment." To stop her return from being noticed till it was too late for them. It wouldn't make her invisible to mundane senses, but to the supernatural? She might as well not exist. And better yet, it should stop her mind from being read. "Unconsciousness immunity." Just in case the Doctor's power was somehow that specific. As a bonus, it would also protect her from knockout blows and ensure she could continue resisting till the death, no matter how much pain she was in... if it came down to that. "Gift ward." To prevent her Spirit from being denied to her in any manner.

Mulling over her choices, Chinami chewed her lip in thought, the Greedy terrified part of her urging for more. She'd need to retain at least two charges to potentially free both victims, and having another two spare for a potential fight sounded smarter than not having them, especially if she needed to heal the wounds of herself or others. Or rather, scratch that, she'd have only three charges to spare, since she needed to use one to return quickly. Which meant she might need to try mundane things or a single all-purpose method to free the victims if she still wanted two spare for battle.

Dammit, she'd just have to wait and see what was awaiting her and use the remainder wisely in the moment.

Exhaling once more, Chinami allowed her changes to complete, her body vibrating, as it was overlaid with her current -and suddenly past- self. For the next three to four hours, she should hopefully be protected from that Bastard. She'd make use of that time wisely. Taking a minute to catch her breath from the massive change and wipe the sweat from her brow, Chinami firmed herself in determination, reached out to the countless possibilities arrayed before her, and teleported back to the roof of the Nightman Clinic.

The rain was roaring in her ears once more in supplementation to the thunderous drumbeat of her heart, as she walked to the edge of the roof. With an enhanced hop, she landed atop the fence, her balance teetering in slow motion to her accelerated perceptions.

No more hiding. No more running. They settled this grudge here and now. And then she was in freefall, landing in a heavy crouch before the entrance to the Clinic. Straightening up, the Goth enveloped herself in her Spirit, ensuring all but its eyes were invisible, and flung open the door, stepping inside, as the water slid off of her. Her shoes clapped loudly against the tiles, as she strode quickly down the entrance hall and entered a clear reception area.

Her crimson eyes narrowed in unison with the glowing blue lenses overlaying them at the receptionist, as she barely refrained from outright stalking closer, her hands folded behind her back. Even so, her approach towards the front desk had a distinctly predatory edge to it, as she inquired all too calmly, "Ma'am, two boys entered the premises this evening, one blonde, one brunet. I know they are still here. And I'm quite certain they also happen to be with one Doctor Nightman." Lies, or rather, mere speculation, but they didn't know that. There was every chance they had been taken elsewhere by this point, given the full minutes it had taken her to quell her panic attack and enhance herself. She didn't see the blonde here in the reception area, so he was already under personal threat by Nightman. "Tell me where they are. Now." She half considered that she could feign being sent by the boys' guardians, but it was likely that the receptionist had a picture of her as a potential "patient" and would be able to call her out immediately.

'Meditation...?' Reverio's eyes slowly narrowed as he grew serious, not openly hostile but he became wary. The doctor, was suggesting to induce him into a trance, a state of mind akin to that of sleep, where your subcouncious would still be aware of the room around, whilst your active mind rested. Danger. A sense of danger came over him. The doctor's voice may have sounded fair and clear, but the meaning of his words were growing moment by moment. Still Reverio sat back in the chair, what game did the doctor think they were playing? In Rev's mind they had played chess all along, but then again... his entire life had been a match of chess. The doctor had made his move.

Simon was calling check, the black tower had moved into position. A tower is built gradually from the base, this doctor is the same. His actions had led him to this point where he would now attempt to subdue his patients. Danger. It swelled up like a pus filled wound. Then the young man felt it, like a vortex. A black hole drawing him in. His mind. No his body aswell was being induced by a poison of the mind. His memories flashing before his eyes, becoming mixed with his dreams and desires. He couldn't help but also feel some feeling of content. False salvation. While to most it would have felt appealing to slip into, Rev felt anger swelling up instead. At himself and others.

The rebellion. The screams of the people of Vauquelin. The lamentation of the nobles as they were brought before the guilliotine. The young princess defiance to the very end, her pround walk to her doom, magnificent and tragic all in one. His brother ascending the wooden stairs to the execution grounds. How he would turn around, his gaze falling into the crowd, landing on just one person. A smile. A smile of content. Of final satisfaction. Defiance. A rebellion against a death that was destined, the wheel of fate aching, the skies shedding their many tears.

One of the twin stars had fallen, it's light fading forever, except in the memories. Reverie. He had already been sleeping since that day. A reversal of time, but only in a dream. The past twisting and turning. The crown falling, cling... clang down the large stone staircase. The scenery fading, yet the sound remain. Cling clang. The mirror cracking in twain, the face gazing into it, the crown wearing king giving his defiant smile before the mirror shattered into hundreds of pieces. Hurling out like shards of a falling meteor, burning into the atmosphere. Pillars would rise up from the earth, scorching it, a looming shadow in the distance, it's hungry red eyes seeking to devour it all. A hero clashing against it. A betrayal. A seal broken.

The light. A symbol of good and purity, twisted by time and destiny. Blinding. Deceiving.

"Brother... Brother!" A voice in the dark, echoing out. Longing for the other half. Reaching out with it's hand, but there is none to grab.

"My king! I will always be your shadow, I will always be there... until your dying day."

Then darkness again.

"My brother, what are you...?" The prisoner king stood in his cell, awaiting the final curtain.

The peasant prince leaned in, his lips moving next to his brother's ear, a whisper followed by a smile, deceptive in nature. Betrayal most foul. An elaborate trap had sprung, and it's ending was seemingly unavoidable. A punch to the face, which felt like a stab in the back.

A golden mask bearing two faces, one smiling, another crying. Falls to the ground, the crown's sound in the distance letting it's presence be known. Cling clang. As it continued to fall down the long staircase.

'The mask. A reflection. Of what I am, what could have been and what may still be. It should have been mine! But you stole it from me, my brother. How will I ever be able to forgive you? More importantly how will I be able to forgive myself? That's why I must... I must...' The thoughts darkened, like a roaring thunderstorm in the distance.

A pair of footsteps soon relieved the thunder, of someone leaving a room. Then soon after... pain. A snapping pain. The blue eyed young man slowly opened his eyes, he felt drowsy, his vision slightly blurred, he looked down at his right hand, shaking... having managed to call forth a minor amount of light energy to scorch himself out of the trance. His breathing was heavy. The doctor was adept at his work, however the young man couldn't allow himself to be trapped. Yes, it was a trap wasn't it? Simon was treading into very dangerous waters, Reverio considered the option that if the doctor could somehow read minds or uncover the terrible truth. That his future intent would be laid bare, it would leave him no choice but to outright strike Simon down. He silently prayed this wasn't the case, and that they could both go their separate ways. Rev silently began to channel his power of cleansing his mind and body, hoping it would drive out any traces of what Simon had inflicted on him.

He had considered about doing as he originally had planned, to leave and be on his way after their talk. But after having witnessed and felt the power that Simon was holding, he just couldn't turn a blind eye. He wanted to find out what he was up to, were his intentions pure or were Rev's suspicion founded and he was up to no good. It was then he decided that the best solution were to pretend to be asleep. Had the other boy, Ken fallen prey to this sort of mental influence aswell? Questions remained to be answered.

One thing was certain, Simon was not to be underestimated. Would he be able to see through his attempts at deception? Only time would tell. Rev closed his eyes, mentally chanting his mantra to himself.

@Lewascan2@KillamriX88@Letter Bee