plot The Cosmic Battle to Save the Thread

[xinoehp512 he/him]

Jared’s face flickered with pale red light as he stared at the person hovering in the suspension chamber. At his father.

“What?” he said incredulously. “How… how could this have happened?”

The mime holding the suspension active- Jared couldn’t remember her name- sighed. We don’t know yet,  she admitted. 

Jared whirled around. “We don’t know? How do we not know? I thought it was our job to know everything.”

The mime drew her lips to a line. We would, she said, if we had enough Archivists to handle the demand.

Jared’s eyes widened. “Why- what- how dare-”

Merely stating a fact, warrior, said the mime, turning back to her work. 

Jared inhaled, then exhaled, forcing calmness into himself. Silence, he thought. Silence.

“So,” he said. “What are we going to do about it?”

Send Archivists, of course. And contact your brother- the pen should have switched allegiance to him now that-

“No, not that,” said Jared, irritated. “What are we going to do about… that?” He gestured in the direction of the suspension chamber. “And why are we not doing anything now?”

We are doing something, said the mime, still in that infuriatingly patient and self-righteous tone. We’re keeping him in the suspension chamber. And we’ve contacted Silence. In fact-

At that moment, the door exploded in a flash of purple as Silence crashed into the room.

He’s all right? he called as he came to a stop besides the control mime.

Yes, said the mime. He’s holding on, for now..

Good, said Silence grimly as his hands began to glow purple. I’m not too late. I tell you, when Fate finally lets me have my way with that thrice-cursed Witherlord-

“Silence!” gasped Jared. “You’re… alive?”

Well, said Silence drily, do I look dead to you?

Jared flushed slightly. “Well, no,” he said. “But I thought that-  well- you know...” He gestured towards the jagged purple lines running across Silence’s body. “Aren’t those supposed to be, you know…”

Killing me? said Silence helpfully as he rubbed his hands together. Yes, they are. But I can’t be sitting in a suspension chamber all day! There’s work to be done. For instance, he grunted, focusing his power, saving one of our-

Wait, said the female mime. There’s something...

Silence turned his head towards her, halting in mid-reach. Yes, Grace? What is it?

I thought I heard something, murmured Grace, closing her eyes. A voice. Saying… something. She sighed. I don’t know- maybe it was only the wind.

It’s never only the wind, said Silence grimly. 

 

Softly at first, but gaining strength, a light breeze began to blow. Jared felt goosebumps erupt on his arms- and not just from the chill of the wind.

“Silence?” he said unsteadily. “What- what’s going on?”

Silence did not respond as he glanced around the room with uncertainty. Papers began to flutter as the wind increased in strength, its varying timbre whistling an eerie tune in the confines of the chamber. Jared began to back slowly towards the door- but even as he did so, a powerful burst of wind slammed it shut.

Wait a minute, he thought with a chill. Didn’t Silence just destroy that?

“Silence!” he called out, raising his voice over the ever-loudening wind. “What in the name of all the Threads is going on?”

Silence glanced upwards.Fate, he whispered, then again, louder: FATE! Say what you have come to say and leave us in peace!

The wind began to whirl even faster at his words, getting louder and louder until Jared could barely hear himself think. The whistles of the wind stacked on each other, forming a cacophony-

Until, all of sudden, they all lined up to form the sound of two words. “DO. NOT.”

With that, the wind died, leaving only a stunned silence.

Jared was the first to break it. “Do… not?” he said, confused. “Do not what?”

Silence stared at the floor and mumbled something unintelligible.

Grace nodded. Yes? What?

Do not heal him, he said. With that, he turned and walked away.

----

Silence trudged aimlessly down the paths and corridors of Mime HQ. A stunning and unique place it was, with its unconventional and often maze-like design, it was the product of centuries of effort on the parts of himself and others. It could hold untold legions within its walls, and could channel more Narrative energy than hundreds - if not thousands- of Narrators. Yet he wondered: what was the point of it all? What worth was his power if he couldn’t use it when it was most needed?

What worth were they to anyone?

He’d thought that he could make a difference. Not by changing what would happen- nothing he could do would alter that- but by giving it a different meaning. An end that provided hope; something he’d thought he’d lost ages ago.

Shouldn’t he have learned by now? Hope had never been of any use to him. It was like a falling plate of crystal: beautiful it might be, but all it promised was the pain of disappointment and despair when it inevitably shattered on the floor. It was best to numb the pain and feeling, to let silence drain it all away.

He knew that. So why, then, was it so hard for him to accept it? 

All of a sudden, he felt a breeze blow by him. He paid it no mind, continuing his aimless tread.

It began to blow harder, tugging insistently. Still he ignored it.

But the wind didn’t go away. Instead, it blew harder. And harder. Silence growled and began to run- where didn’t matter, just away from that infernal wind. Fate had no right to command him. No right. No-

Suddenly and unexpectedly, Silence’s foot felt empty air. He opened his mouth in a silent cry of surprise as he tumbled through a blackened hole in the floor and out into the darkness below.

----

Michael sketched quickly, his hands falling into a rhythm as they formed the now-familiar shapes. They shifted even as he wrote them, curling together, becoming more dense and intricate. Incredible, really. He’d never really thought that he’d be able to do this. He’d known, logically, that he’d eventually inherit his father’s position; Jared had turned his back on that a long time ago, Abigail was likely dead, and Antonio… well, he was hardly a suitable candidate now. 

That left only Michael- and so, barring his own death, it was inevitable that the role of High Archivist would eventually fall to him. But even if it was inevitable, even if he’d known that it would eventually happen… he still hadn’t really believed it. Hadn’t truly believed that his father would ever actually… die.

Still mortal, he thought in the detached, empty way that one thought when consumed with silence. In an odd way, it was comforting- to know that at least part of him was still human, still normal- a seed of truths in the lies they all told to themselves…

But he didn’t have mental energy to focus on philosophizing. Not now. He had a murderer to catch, and a father to avenge. With one last stroke, he finished his drawing and stepped back.

From the ground it rose, folding and twisting upon itself, shimmering and changing into something new.

Run, if you want, he whispered, reaching out his hand, but I’ll catch you eventually...

It was time for the hunter to become the hunted.

----

Silence fell… and fell… and fell…

And then, all of a sudden, he wasn’t falling anymore.

Blinking, he swept his vision across his new surroundings. To be honest, they were… well, boring. The ground was the color and texture of polished marble, extending in every direction.The sky was a uniform black, unmarred by star, moon, or any other celestial object. The two met at the horizon, farther away than his eyes could discern. Other than that, there was nothing.

Immediately he knew that Fate must have brought him here for some reason. Nothing ever happened by chance when Fate was involved. Chance was his to command- and therefore, the river of time was his to direct as he pleased.

But Silence was done going with the flow. For millennia he’d simply accepted the path that Fate set, and where had that gotten him? Darkness and shadows and pain, time after time after time. There was simply no way he was letting Fate direct his path if he could help it. Not today, and not ever again.

With that thought in mind, he reached for Silence and pushed himself into it, teleporting away from wherever it was he’d been brought and back to the familiar world above.

----

“Blitka!” cursed Jared. “Blitka, blitka, blit-”

Please don’t swear, said Grace calmly. It’s rather distracting. 

Jared slammed his fist down on the table. “How can it be so hard to find a pen that literally connects to our entire infrastructure? For the sake of Silence, we can target Wallbreaks in completely alternate universes!”

Firstly, there are security measures, said Grace, to ensure the pen transitions smoothly between holders. We wouldn’t want our enemies getting a hold of it, now, would we? Secondly, she continued, we do not have a connection with the pen itself- again, for security reasons. And thirdly, she said, turning to look him in the eyes, Why do you even care? It’s not like having the pen would help your father.

Jared exhaled through his teeth. “Yes, I know, it’s just that- it’s- I can’t- aagh!” He threw his hands into the air in frustration. “We don’t know anything! I thought-”

-that it was our job to know everything? remarked Grace -somewhat snidely, in Jared’s opinion. You did say that earlier, as I recall.

Jared made some unintelligible frustrated noises and threw his hands into the air again. “Yes, but- oh, never mind.” He sighed. He knew what he was trying to say. Why did words have to be so hard?

The two stood quiet for a moment, listening to the silent buzz of Grace’s red lightning as it kept the shadow at bay. It was working- without it, Jacob would have died minutes after the Witherlord’s attack. But it wouldn’t last forever; without Master Silence to reverse the damage already done, it would all be in vain. His father’s fate was sealed, and Jared was powerless against it.

Oh, Author… it was happening again. He felt despair rise within him, a twisted weed threatening to strangle his soul. Hadn’t he lost enough? Why did Fate have to keep taking away the people he loved?

Silence, he thought, leaning backwards against the wall and holding back the treacherous tears that rose unbidden to his eyes. . This is what Silence is for… right? Numbing the feeling, taking away the pain…

Grace cleared her throat, her eyes downcast. I… am sorry, she said. I shouldn’t be snide. It’s just… I feel powerless, too. She looked up, her eyes apologetic. I know how you feel.

Jared pushed off of the wall with a flash of anger. “Do you?” he said with a voice like a dagger. “Tell, me, how many family members have you lost?” 

Grace opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it and looked down without saying a word.

Jared turned away. “You know nothing,” he muttered. “Nothing.”

----

Silence materialized from nothingness in a place that shouldn’t have existed.

It took him a moment to realize that, of course. The journey had seemed… different than usual, this time, an anomaly that occupied his mental attention for a few brief moments after his arrival. Until he saw the lights.

They were long and threadlike, almost like a spiderweb woven in the air- if spiders were forty feet across and had silk made of sunbeams. They glowed with a soft yet powerful glow, illuminating anything and everything that stood nearby.

Silence rotated slowly, giving his eyes time to process all that he was seeing. He hadn’t seen a sight like this since- well, since what seemed like an eternity. The power that flowed through the silken strands could only come by way of the luxsprites, and they were all long, long dead. There was no way anything like this could exist- not now.

Some sort of illusion? he thought warily. Being cloaked in silence made him mostly immune to such lies, but not completely immune. Unlikely as it might be, it was still the most likely option. He extended his hand to release a blast of silence designed to wipe away trickery and deceit… then watched it pass through the strands with no effect.

So they were real. But… how? Had he been sent back, pushed upstream through the river of time? Such things were possible, as he knew from personal experience. He knew of several ways it could be done, and likely Fate had several more up his sleeve to be brought out whenever he felt like it. 

If Fate really had returned him to the past, then the imperative question, was, of course, why? Not for him to change anything, he was sure- Fate had his path set in stone, solid and indestructible. The only way for him to visit the long-lost ages would be as a spectator.

For a moment- just one- he let himself believe that this was some sort of gift. A way for Fate to apologize for all that Silence had endured at his hands. And then the moment was over, and he laughed at himself for even letting the thought cross his mind. What would Fate bring him except pain?

And that’s why, when the shadow appeared in the sky a moment later, he wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

So this is the moment of Collapse? he said. How completely predictable.

With a neutral expression, he watched as tendrils of shadow began to creep through the incandescent strands above. A cold wind blew as they began to fall, and darkness fell along with them.

The past is gone he thought No need to grieve for it any longer.

Were you expecting me to feel something? called Silence. If this is the best you can do, then I’m afraid you’re out of luck.

At his words, the wind howled- and, faintly, Silence heard the sound of laughter from it.

That was when he felt the touch. Gentler even than the brush of a feather- but oh, how cold. He jerked away from it, but immediately felt another touch elsewhere.

Withergeists? he thought, looking down to see that, in fact, it was. Well, no matter. He reached out his hand, preparing a blast of silence that would wipe it from the face of existence.

Nothing happened. His powers of silence had mysteriously vanished. Dread pricked at his stomach, but he shook it off. No matter, he thought. I have other ways of defense He cleared his throat. The withergeists vanished from existence, their meaningless so-called lives snuffed out like a candle flame.

Again, nothing happened.

As more and more withgeists began to float towards him, his heart began to sink as the realization finally sank in. This wasn’t the past at all, was it? No, there was only one explanation that made sense, there was no denying it- he was trapped in a Dream.

Or, more accurately, a Nightmare.

----

Jared sat sprawled out in a seat, staring dully at the wall across from him. Behind him, Grace continued to pour power into the suspension machine. Neither spoke a word.

Jared shot a look back at Grace. Her face was a mask of silence. To the casual observer, it would be unreadable, completely devoid of any emotion at all. But Jared was no casual observer. When one grew up with the mimes, learning how to read emotion in even the most closed of faces was essential- and those skills showed him unmistakably the sadness in her expression.

He felt a twinge of guilt. I should apologize, thought a part of him. He took a breath and opened his mouth to try and say I’m sorry- but he couldn’t force the words out. Instead he closed his mouth and sighed. It probably wouldn’t have been a very good apology anyways, he told himself.

All of sudden, he heard a steady, insistent beeping noise, like the sound of an alarm going off. He jumped in surprise, then scanned the room for the origin. His eyes slid towards Grace as she somehow managed to pull an object from what appeared to be her pocket without touching it with her hands. 

Data transit overload? she said, perplexed, reading something off the object’s screen. That doesn’t make any sense. The entire department doesn’t even have the power to fill up half of the load capacity. The only thing that could do that would be... She looked up and met his eyes. The pen.

“Michael,” he whispered, eyes widening.

------

The object in front of Michael began to flash erratically, parts of it seeming to vanish only to reappear a second later. He felt the pen grow warm in his hand as it stretched the limits of its capacity to draw and process information.

Come on, he thought grimly. Don’t fail me now.

Gradually, the pen began to cool down. The object in front of him began to settle into a more patterned chaos as it began to adapt its algorithm to deal with the massive data dumps it was receiving.

The mimes’ network gathered information from across the multiverse, cataloguing anything and everything that they could find. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the eyelid of a fly they didn’t know about. (Although, come to think of it, flies didn’t have eyelids, did they? He’d have to rethink that expression.) With that amount of data added to the raw processing power and AI of the pen, you could do almost anything.

You could even predict the future.

A smile began to spread across his face as the object began to draw a picture in midair. The marks it was making likely looked like only scribbles to his companions, but they carried information of immense significance.

  Where will you run, I wonder? murmured Michael, reaching up to touch the markings drawn in midair.

All of a sudden, the ink flashed red. Michael jerked his hand back. Was that… me? he thought, confused. That shouldn’t have happened- the marks left behind were just like those left on a paper by a pen (excluding the fact that they were hovering unsupported in midair).

The cursor paused what it was doing and zipped a few feet to the left, blinking and emitting an alarming beep as it did so. Quickly- so quickly that Michael could barely keep his eyes on it- it began to draw in midair a defensive shield.

What? he thought, even more confused. Why is it doing this? It’s almost like…

His eyes widened.  Something’s going to happen.... he whispered, stunned. Something big.

-----

Silence took one look at the swarm of withergeists drifting towards him, their features tattered and distorted. They were large, for withergeists- the smallest was over half his height, and the largest was almost as big as he was. Any could likely kill a person completely by themselves without even slowing down. Faced with something like that, there was only one logical thing to do. Run.

And so Silence ran. Newly-darkened tendrils crunched over his feet as he fled the rapidly growing multitude of withergeists behind him. Large pieces of broken crystal fell and shattered all around, threatening injury. As if this wasn’t dangerous enough.

Silence could barely even remember the last time he’d fled something for fear of his life. He’d left weakness behind long, long ago. Even during the first time he’d experienced this, he’d been powerful enough to escape safety.

Is that your goal, Fate? he wondered. To force me to remember the past? If so, it was redunant. Even faded as they were, his ancient memories were etched into his soul- into the very core of who he was. There was no way he would ever forget them.

The withergeists were gaining on him now. He was slowing down; without the power to ignore pain that silence granted him, or the enhanced power that came from Narrative office, he only had the strength of his body to rely on.

And so when an enormous withergeist jumped out of the shattered strands in front of him, it’s tattered face open in a silent scream, Silence was almost relieved. Unable to stop in his tracks, he stumbled straight into the withergeist. He didn’t even have time to scream before its power burned him up into ash.

Darkness hit him like a physical force. Around him he heard the nightmarish echoes of screams, ragged and soul-piercing. Pain flowed through him- physical, mental, and emotional all combined into one. The agonizing touch of a withergeist as flesh and bone withered to nothingness. Half remembered fragments of nightmares played themselves over and over again. People he loved, dying. Over and over and over and over and over…

Somehow- he wasn’t quite sure how- he managed to get to his feet. FATE! he screamed, the sheer magnitude of the shout overwhelming the chorus of agony that surrounded him. Why have you condemned me to this suffering? He raised a trembling fist to the sky. Have I not done enough? he said, his voice becoming hoarse. Have I... not done... enough?

He fell to his knees, unable to stand against the torment for long. You promised, he whispered accusingly. Promised… to take... the pain... away.

His shoulders slumped. “Please,,” he whispered in a voice he hadn’t used in millenia. “Please…”

----

For a single moment, wind stopped. 

In that instant, every air molecule in all the many worlds ceased their organized movement for an instant of total calm.

In that instant, Fate’s voice rang loud and clear in Silence’s ears. “Very well,” he said in a tone that betrayed no emotion. “As I have promised, so shall it be.”

In that instant, Silence felt the pain bleed away, leaving behind only an empty numbness.

For a moment he knelt there, silent and still as a statue. Only the two lines of tears running down his face gave any indication he was alive at all.

Then he stood up. The purple lines criss crossing his body began to fade, their power - his power - flowing up his body, down his arms and into his closed fists. He let it pool there, tense and waiting for the moment he would release it.

Fate,  he said in a toneless voice. There is something that must be done.

“Yes.”

Something that I must do.

“Yes.”

It will cause much pain.

“Yes.”

But I must do it regardless,

“Yes.”

Silence paused for a moment.

I will do it, he said.

With that, he opened his hands and let the power flow free.

----

Purple lightning shot upwards and outwards in every direction across universes, annihilating reality in zigzagged webs of silence.

----

Everyone take cover! screamed Michael as reality began to shatter.

----

Jared’s eyes were wide open as he scrambled to get out of the path of the deadly lightning. “What’s happening?” he screamed in terror as the entire room began to shake.

----

Around Star, Pheonix, Jaywalk, and Xino, the world was beginning to dissolve as purple streaks of light burned through the Tree. “Run!” someone yelled- with all the commotion, it was impossible to tell who.

----

From across the metaphorical gap, the twin realities of S and Prime called to each other. Burned by silence, each sought completion with their long-lost twin.

----

Both Toms blinked, looking up. “Did you feel that?” they both said simultaneously.

----

Inexorably, the two broken worlds drew each other, pulling together until - at last- they became one once more.

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Quote

Absolutely beautiful, Xino. 

Ember's eyes widened and she felt a buzzing in her ears. Something had just happened. Something huge. She let go of Heather's hair and swung her slender legs off the side of the bed to take a look around. The Destroyer cast her eyes about the room, but nothing was different and the only sound was of her own metallic footsteps. She blinked in confusion, then, deciding nothing was wrong, sat back down next to Heather and continued playing with her hair. 
------
"What just happened?!" Star demanded. Her pain had begun to fade and she was terrified at what that meant, especially with all the strange activity she was picking up mentally. Combined, they resulted in great stress. 

[xinoehp512 he/him]

4 minutes ago, Shard of Thought said:

Sophie just continued to laugh with joy, holding to a tree. 

"Uh... what does that mean, Sophie?"

"Well, it means a lot of things. It means you can go see your mother, for one. And Xino can go have the plot he's always wanted." 

Astral panicked for a moment. The way is open... she thought. She melted to goo, biding her time. Granite wanted to cross over. She'd follow the boy over. If she had a face in a liquid state, she would have smiled. 

Slowly, the ground stilled. The destructive lightning faded. Michael relaxed, exhaling a sigh of relief.

Well, he started. That went better than-

He was interrupted by a beep from the device he'd drawn moments before. He blinked, suddenly remembering what he'd been doing when the chaos had struck. He glanced at it, interpreting it- and gasped.

The Witherlord, he cried. He's crossing over.

 

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

"Oh, hi, Michael. Wait, the WITHERLORD? Oh no." 

"Who's the Witherlord?"

"Nonononono! Michael c-can we do something?" 

[xinoehp512 he/him]

Of course, said Michael grimly, pulling his device out and flicking it into the air in one swift motion. We can follow him.

---

11 hours ago, Shard of Thought said:

Ember's eyes widened and she felt a buzzing in her ears. Something had just happened. Something huge. She let go of Heather's hair and swung her slender legs off the side of the bed to take a look around. The Destroyer cast her eyes about the room, but nothing was different and the only sound was of her own metallic footsteps. She blinked in confusion, then, deciding nothing was wrong, sat back down next to Heather and continued playing with her hair. 
------
"What just happened?!" Star demanded. Her pain had begun to fade and she was terrified at what that meant, especially with all the strange activity she was picking up mentally. Combined, they resulted in great stress. 

Pheonix gasped for breath as the group sprinted through the rapidly disintegrating landscape.

"Silence," he gasped. "Silence happened."

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Just now, xinoehp512 said:

Of course, said Michael grimly, pulling his device out and flicking it into the air in one swift motion. We can follow him.

Sophie grimaced. "Oooooh.." she said. "Do we have to do that? That doesn't sound very... happy. Or fun..." She bit her lip. The prospect of going to fight that thing again was not a pleasant one. She'd only just gotten Xinoehp back, risking him again was not something she had any interest in doing. 

"Seriously though, who's the Witherlord?"

"Oh, he's the one that nearly killed poor Xino over there a little bit ago. He's scary..."

"Okay..."

"Hey, where'd Astral go?"

5 minutes ago, xinoehp512 said:

Pheonix gasped for breath as the group sprinted through the rapidly disintegrating landscape.

"Silence," he gasped. "Silence happened."

"Silence..." Star growled. "What did he do?"

[xinoehp512 he/him]

2 minutes ago, Shard of Thought said:

Sophie grimaced. "Oooooh.." she said. "Do we have to do that? That doesn't sound very... happy. Or fun..." She bit her lip. The prospect of going to fight that thing again was not a pleasant one. She'd only just gotten Xinoehp back, risking him again was not something she had any interest in doing. 

"Seriously though, who's the Witherlord?"

"Oh, he's the one that nearly killed poor Xino over there a little bit ago. He's scary..."

"Okay..."

"Hey, where'd Astral go?"

Yes, said Michael simply. He killed my father. He tried to kill you. If we do not stop him, he will destroy everything.

"Astral?" said Xinoehp, leaning on Trewee and looking around. "She's over there, being goo."

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Sophie clenched her fists. "Oh..." she groaned. "I really don't wanna hafta face him again, we only barely survived last time..." Sophie glanced over at Astral's pile of goo. "Astral, do you have anything to add?"

Astral formed a mouth. "No," she said. 

[xinoehp512 he/him]

Just now, Shard of Thought said:

Sophie clenched her fists. "Oh..." she groaned. "I really don't wanna hafta face him again, we only barely survived last time..." Sophie glanced over at Astral's pile of goo. "Astral, do you have anything to add?"

Astral formed a mouth. "No," she said. 

We will re-assemble the Spear of Light on the way, said Michael. He is weak, now- if we can face him with a restored Spear, we will almost certainly emerge victorious.

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

"But Michael..." Sophie sighed hopelessly. I don't wanna do it again...

Granite folded his arms. "So that thing is going over to where my mom is?"

"Yeah..."

"And you don't wanna do anything?"

"Well... I do want to, but... Oooh..." Sophie's hair covered her face.

[xinoehp512 he/him]

1 minute ago, Shard of Thought said:

"But Michael..." Sophie sighed hopelessly. I don't wanna do it again...

Granite folded his arms. "So that thing is going over to where my mom is?"

"Yeah..."

"And you don't wanna do anything?"

"Well... I do want to, but... Oooh..." Sophie's hair covered her face.

You need not come if you do not wish, said Michael. Only Xinoehp is essential for this mission to succeed.

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Sophie looked over at Xino. "But... he only just..." Her lip quivered and she sat down. "I guess it's... for the best..."

[xinoehp512 he/him]

Michael nodded. Now, are you going to accompany us, or would you rather go your own way?

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Sophie opened her mouth. "Well..." 

"I think I'd like to go," said Granite. 

"Oh. Granite... You finally have a chance to see your mother. You shouldn't."

"Well, I don't very well know where I'm going." Granite looked at her knowingly.

"You want me to... Oh." She looked a Michael and Xinoehp with her mouth open.

[xinoehp512 he/him]

Michael blinked. Is that a yes?

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

"Granite wants me to take him to CBST."

Granite nodded. 

[xinoehp512 he/him]

Michael blinked. That... will not be necessary.

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Granite raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

[xinoehp512 he/him]

Because we are already here, said Michael.

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Sophie paled, Granite grinned, and Astral perked up. 

"She's close, then," Granite said.

"She's on Tom's ship. Which is... somewhere in the sky." 

"Well, then how are we going to find her?"

"Granite..." Sophie rubber her face with her hand. "I think I need a minute..."

[xinoehp512 he/him]

Do you want to slow down time? suggested Aqua in Sophie's mind.

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

“That’s be nice,” said Sophie. She took a deep breath. “I’m about to panic a little bit...”

[xinoehp512 he/him]

Take a deep breath, advised Aqua. Pull time together- fit more moments into one. That will cause time to appear to move slowly.

[Zephrun’s Imperium they/he]

Sophie took a deep breath. And then another. And then another. Soon enough she was hyperventilating. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” She sat down, trying to catch her breath. 

[xinoehp512 he/him]

"Sophie?" said Xinoehp. "Is something wrong?"