melodiesofeternity | The Jewel of Jewels

"All right!" Came the loud announcement of Kid's arrival. Since it was still mid-winter, she was decked out in her long Sky Pirate coat, red of course, but edges were embroidered with gold— and of course, the yellow scarf that Corrin had given her for during the Starlight Celebration was coiled around her neck, a long end trailing behind her.

This time, she was determined to be ready for whatever the Dream Width threw at her, at least— that was what she was telling herself. "Here we go again, eh?" If she had any reservations, she was doing a good job of shoving them somewhere far below the surface.

Corrin smiles as Kid announces herself; both for the presence of her friend and to see her wearing the scarf; it really does look good on her.

"Once more into the breach, yes." She says nodding. "But I think with the group we've got now we can handle anything the Dream Width can throw at us." Of the group she's never worked with Frisk before, and they're not the same one she had that delightful conversation with back during Mr. Scientia's Halloween party, but she recalled that Frisk had spoken well of their other self. "It's good to see you again, Kid. And you, Klonoa, it feels like it's been years since the Doll Museum. How've you been?"

[Serge is Frisk's friend. They've seen just a sample of how strange and terrifying his memories can be, likely even more so when not even he fully understands them after the fact, and they want to help him through it. Even if they're not the only one there, they still want to help. Because they're friends. Friends do that.]

[That doesn't make them any less jumpy about going back into the Dream Width barely a week after... things. They try to at least appear calm about it, reminding themself in tiny flicked signs that it won't be their memory. Nothing of theirs is going to be revealed, especially nothing that could drag their friendships any further through the mud.]

[It's kinda working, if you look past the unbrushed hair and the constant movement of their hands.]

"Whatever it is, won't be that bad. I... we got this."

"Rupurudu, everyone!" Klonoa calls out as he sits down next to the others.

"I know what you mean, Corrin. I've been pretty busy with work. With everyone hearing about Bahamut, people have ended up needing a doctor a lot more..." He trails off a bit, leaving the "violent crime" as more of an implication than anything else.

"Uh, anyway, the Dream Width should be.. well.." He rubs the back of his neck a little bit.

"...Actually, I wanted to talk about that. No matter what we see... it's going to be okay. Even if it shows us something really bad. Whatever your emotions are, I promise, we'll help you deal with it. Together."

He says, nodding resolutely. The worst of his has already been shown to everyone. He's ready, come what may.

Edited 2019-02-09 04:44 (UTC)

Honestly, Serge was thrilled. Kid and Corrin wanted to come with him even after what had happened last time. Two more of his friends had even showed up! Though he was a bit worried about Frisk, and he signed a quick You look upset. Want to talk about it? to the child.

"Uh-" He has to pause, staring at Kid for a moment. "Wow. That coat looks pretty badass on you, Kid."

Klonoa was the last to arrive, and the last person to greet. "Hey, don't worry about it. I don't think the... other me, would've been the type to do anything really bad. Mostly I think he just... really had it rough."

He leads the way onto the ship, getting himself strapped in. This would all be fine.

The actual journey is, compared to the previous one, practically stress free. A gentle ascent from the ground into the black, until the edge of the Cloud is reached. The process is a simple one: Tie yourself off, jump in, tug on the rope when you want to be reeled in, you'll be reeled in anyway if you take more than half an hour.

[Frisk gives Serge a sheepish smile, signing back quickly.]

"Maybe later. It's a long story."

[They hurry after him, curling up with a game on their iMog to pass the time. When they arrive at their destination and start getting strapped in, they take a deep breath to steel themself and then give Serge a thumbs up. They're ready for this.]

"I, uh..." there was something akin to a 'thanks' that Kid seems to have muttered or maybe it was an 'of course', but the gifted scarf offers a hiding place for those burning cheeks at Serge's comment. She quickly finds a seat on the aircraft and buckles herself in, this time much more prepared for whatever awaits them on the other side.

Vaikuntha's Serge wasn't wrong either— the other Serge definitely had things rough.

She feels like an old hat at this now, securing her harness and making sure everything was in one piece and connected, before nodding at her own work, and turning to the nearest person beside her— "Need some help with that, mate?"

"Alright, guys," Serge inhales, looking around. It's a small cloud, small enough that he can easily see the edge from here, but then, the last one had been small, too. "Okay. It's probably small, whatever it is. If you see it, yell. Everyone spread out and... probably don't touch it."

In the end, it's Corrin that spots it first. It's such an innocuous thing, some sort of carved jewel in red and orange. It looks harmless enough...

And, as Serge floats up to it, he finds himself staring, transfixed. Again he feels it pulling him, drawing him towards it. He's ready for it this time, though, and he holds himself back until everyone is present. "What... what is it?" He reaches out- and immediately jerks his hand back, when a light glows inside, pulsing faintly, like- like a heartbeat. Not just a stone, maybe, but something alive. And then, almost like a sleeping animal, sensing its master's presence, it... uncurls.

Six eyes, staring unblinking from something that looks half like red stone, carved and polished, and half... alive. "Ooooookay. That. Uh. That's... creepy."

Edited 2019-02-23 18:10 (UTC)

Klonoa just kind of looks at the strange object, slowly floating out in space.

"Whoa... Is that alive...?" He says. He slowly weaves through space on his wind board to get closer to Serge, enough to gently nudge his side.

"You alright? You look really focused.."

At first Corrin thought it was a shell of some sort, which almost made a sort of sense given that Serge was a fisherman (in both this world and Kid's she was given to understand). A treasured memento of this other Serge's?

It's not until they get closer she realizes it's a jewel of some sort, which seems odder, but then it uncurls in a way that is wholly unnatural as Serge approaches. The eyes don't really help; Corrin leans from side to side and she can't be certain they aren't following her as she moves. O-kaaaaaay...

This is almost certainly going to lead to another memory, and the last one was bad enough. "We've got your back Serge, whatever's coming." She says firmly. "When you're ready."

She can't help but take up a position in front of Kid, however. What happened in the last memory still has Corrin a bit...spooked, where the other girl is concerned. Memory or not, Corrin will protect her.

When she first spies the object, its almost like she knows— she'd never seen it before, but there was something so captivating about the shell, she was practically mesmerized. When it started to uncurl, her lids opened wide, her pupils dilating in time as the flame took shape in front of them.

There was a gentle push past Corrin, as her gloved hand reached outwards, a blank expression taking over her as she made a move to grasp for the treasure, seeming to completely ignore Serge's first-hand advice from just moments ago.

But she just... couldn't help herself, dammit. "That... that's it!!"

As one, the eyes seem to focus on Kid as she reaches out. "Kid, wait-"

And then, for all of them, there's the sensation of falling. Storm clouds overhead, lightning crashing from sky to ground, howling winds, and a roiling sea rushing to meet them. There's a scream cut off as Serge impacts the water, before he resurfaces, gasping for breath. "What the hell-"

The water, perhaps fortunately, is not too deep. Certainly over the heads of the party, but less than ten feet, with a shoreline not too far away. And, for those able to keep their heads above water, gleaming towers of white metal in the distance.

"Get to the shore! Quick!" Serge yells out, perhaps unnecessarily.

Corrin hits the water and experiences a brief moment of panic as it envelops her. She's not a great swimmer; never really had the cause or opportunity to learn, but her thrashing does manage to let her at least break the surface with a gasp.

She sees the towers but the shore is of more immediate concern and so Corrin does her best to try and force her way towards it, but the roiling waves, the pounding rain and the disorienting lightning and thunder do not help her frantic attempts to keep above water as she does so.

"Help-" Is all she can manage before she sinks under the water again.

[Frisk is a little embarrassed at how little help they've been so far. When they weren't firmly reminding themself this isn't their memory, they were getting distracted by the scenery or whatever else catches their attention. It's almost a relief when things start going topsy-turvy— they know how to handle that.]

[They're fairly okay at swimming, they think. They could swim laps around Undyne's swimming pool back in one of the earlier timelines, and they occasionally had reason to practice that skill while passing through Waterfall. They're not used to these stormy waters, but they're certainly good enough to right themself again and catch a glimpse of the towers. A more pressing matter, however, is the woman drowning next to them.]

[They're not even close to being a trained lifeguard, but no one here is. So they don't think, they just take a deep breath and drop beneath the waves, eyes stinging as they reach blindly toward Corrin. Their hand catches around her wrist and immediately they pull, straining as hard as they can to head for the shore— though there's not a whole lot they can do as a child trying to drag a grown woman through water nearly twice as deep as they are tall. They're trying, though!]

Unfortunately that nagging little voice, what some might call a conscience even, didn't rear its head until it was already too late. Shit. Shit! Were Kid's initial thoughts as the cold water snapped her out of her treasure-induced tunnel vision. She spied the shore between head-bobs, but it was Corrin's meek call for help that took priority.

Shit.

"Together!" she called out to Frisk, who she could tell was trying their best to help, as she tugged at Corrin's opposite wrist. "C'mon, we got ya!" They were simple words of reassurance, but she pulled at her friend to try and take most of the weight, while hopefully Frisk could lead the way while she concentrated on keeping them above the surface.

The surf is brutal, but the current is taking them in to shore anyway. Serge sees that Corrin is well in hand, and moves to swim for the shore- and freezes.

Never gave Klonoa his swimming lessons. Shit.

He turns back, diving for his furred companion and pulling his head above the water, dragging them both towards shore with a one-handed breast stroke.

Minutes pass, and the five emerge, drenched, onto a sandy shore. It's... eerie, how calm it seems, here. Not that far away, the howling of wind and crashing of thunder can be heard, flashes of lightning illuminating a hurricane-blackened sky, but here, on this island, the air is calm, overhead clear blue skies, with only an occasional gentle breeze passing by.

Serge coughs, setting Klonoa down on the sand and pulling himself into a kneeling position, turning around to count heads. One, two, three, four. Great. And- a boat, dragged up onto the shore, sail ravaged by the weather. That's... familiar, somehow. "Okay. Everybody take stock. Anything broken? If this is the eye of a storm, we need to get inside, it's not gonna stay calm forever. Corrin, Klonoa, you okay?"

Feeling both Frisk and Kid grab her wrists, Corrin concentrates for a moment, focusing on her training. She suppresses the rising panic in her mind; panic is not useful, Xander would say. Focused now, she is able to break the surface again with her rescuer's help. This time her breaths are more controlled, and with Frisk and Kid's help-and her own awkward kicking of her legs in a rough approximation of what she figures swimming is like-manages to make it to the shore.

Coughing water as she crawls onto the beach, she looks over at Frisk and Kid. "Thank you..." She manages after a moment. She pulls herself up into a sitting position and tries to wring the water out of her tattered Nohr Noble cape. "I-I'm okay now." She says. "Just waterlogged."

Then something occurs to her; the last time this happened both Serge and Kid fell under the sway of the memory, at least temporarily, believing they were actually living the events of the memory (or re-living, in Kid's case). So did Corrin herself a little, near the end. It's not the end of the world if the same thing has happened to the two of them here, but she does need to check. That Serge recognizes her and Klonoa doesn't help since they both still knew who she was the first time too.

Obviously finding shelter before the storm catches up to them is important, but as Corrin sets to work helping the others up, she looks over at Serge and Kid. "I do need to ask you two something though; how did we meet?" She asks. If they're not under the memory's thrall, they should have no difficulty answering; if they are, the Dream Width doesn't appear to be so good at improvising where outsiders like Corrin and the others are concerned.

Once they'd made it to land, Kid finally took the opportunity to check herself over. There was a pang of something in her gut, but the quick inspection revealed no injuries which meant... it was probably that 'guilt' thing that she so hated.

If only she had been able to control herself better, then maybe... "Huh?" Corrin's question, rather than Serge's is what roused her from her thoughts.

"That's..." of course she knew why her friend was asking, but she couldn't help but look away. No, she wouldn't lose herself so easily as she had that time... She was better prepared for it all now. Still, she couldn't help but sheepishly look away as she cleared her throat. "Y'know. In Vaikuntha..." Came her answer, while she set about wringing some of her clothing a little more dry.

Serge nods. "No, it's fine, it was at the Curti Center and you'd just arrived..." He frowns. That doesn't make sense. "Last time I got lost in the memory, but this time it's... separate. This feels familiar, but at the same time, not... Maybe this memory's different, somehow?" He stands up, dusting sand off his shorts, looking up to the city on the hill... it's like nothing that ever existed on El Nido, or even Vaikuntha. The dissonance is something that sticks in his mind, that this shouldn't be here, somehow, looking simultaneously... ancient, and futuristic.

"Chronopolis," he mumbles, unbidden, surprising himself. "I... I think I've been here before. But there wasn't a storm, and the boat was different..."

[Frisk practically collapses to the sand when they reach land, just lying there catching their breath and letting the adrenaline rush pass. Corrin is fine, it's fine. They have to twist their arm a little awkwardly to give everyone a thumbs-up.]

[They eventually get back to their feet, inching closer to Serge's side and looking around with narrowed eyes. They tug a little at his sleeve, jerking their head towards the city.]

"Check it out?"

Serge nods, and starts walking up the sandy path. Everything around shows signs of terrible neglect. Stumps of ancient, rusted metal that might once have been lamp-posts, black gravel underneath that on closer inspection turns out to be asphalt, ground to pieces by the inexorable passage of time.

Eventually, the group comes to a wall, surrounding the city with its massive spires. The place is as massive as Sen Riqueax, and there's- something. Something he can't quite place, as the path comes to a stop in front of a massive gate, left... open, as though inviting them in. More alarmingly, perhaps, is the pair of heavily-armed-and-armored machines resting on either side of the gate. Both seemingly active, both aware of the party's intrusion, given the way their featureless faces turn to follow them...

Strangely, from what can be seen inside the gate, everything is... pristine. Having the unmistakable sense of age, certainly, but... disconcertingly clean. There is one thing, however, that attracts attention. A splash of red amidst the spotless gray of the road, a drop of blood.

"All this feels... so friggin' weird. It's like I've been here before, and I know I've been here before but nothing feels... right? I'm pretty sure those are supposed to be trying to stop us entering, or something, but they're just... sitting there."

Corrin can't help but be amazed at the sight of the...castle? Facility? City? It looks so old and yet so new at the same time, in a way that shouldn't be possible. She readies her sword as they approach the robots, expecting a fight when they try to pass through, and yet nothing happens. Strangely, the fact that they've avoided a fight doesn't help put her at ease.

As they take in their bearings however, Corrin approaches Kid. "Hey." She says quietly, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "That...jewel?" She asks,unsure if that's what the thing actually was but finding no other descriptor that fits. "-In Serge's rift. You know what it is, right?" Corrin's tone isn't accusatory, merely inquisitive. "What are we dealing with? Is it...dangerous?"

Serge stops, looking down at the blood on the concrete, frowning and bending to touch it with a gloved fingertip. "It's still wet. This has gotta be pretty recent, someone's just passed through here and they're hurt."

He straightens, opening his mouth to say something. "I don't really like it, but I think we've got to..."

Serge... A voice, faint and feminine, and hauntingly familiar, just on the edge of perception.

He trails off, looking at Kid. "Did you... say my name, just now?"

Chronopolis. The word stuck with Kid too, though she couldn't place it against any memory she possessed. Her brow was screwed into something akin to confusion the entire time they made their approach, unmoving even as they approached that appeared to be the entrance.

"Huh?" she seems to finally hear Corrin, her expression softening just a little at her friend's question, and lowering her voice as she offered a reply. "Yeah, that was... the Frozen Flame, it's gotta be." Though she'd never seen it with her own eyes, it couldn't be anything else. "The legendary treasure..." one she'd been searching her whole life for. But, was it dangerous? She had no earthly idea, which was answered with a simple shake of her head, and a quiet, "I don't..." think so? Know? Have any idea how to even begin explaining?

But that was just as Serge addressed her, and so she looked over his way. "Wasn't me," was the simple answer to that, but a glance back over at Corrin had her asking silently with a worried look about her— did you hear anything? She sure hadn't...

Serge frowns, looking around. "No, I swear I heard your voice just now, or at least someone who... sounded like you..."

Something pulls him forward, towards the massive building at the center of the compound. There are others- shorter towers, dwellings possibly- but the central compound somehow... draws all attention in. The droplets of blood, one every couple dozen feet or so, seem to lead toward it.

Come to me, Serge...

"There it is again," he mutters. "Like you, but it's... It's almost like you with a different... accent? Like the same tone, but it doesn't feel right- I'm not making any sense. You looked like you knew what that thing was, Kid. Is it... something important?"

Corrin sees Kid look back at her, and shakes her head in response. No, she heard nothing. And yet Serge, it seems, continues to. Her initial thought is that it might be Kid's older sister, the one she told Corrin about after the first trip, but...no, Kid was adopted like her. Can't have been that, if the voice was the same.

Kid had only started to answer about the Frozen Flame, though she seemed uncertain as to her response. But now with Serge asking, Corrin turns her attention elsewhere. She looks at Klonoa and Frisk. "Let's keep an eye out; we're pretty open out here and I don't like it." Just because that one robot let them pass, she's not willing to bet any other robots-if there are any-will; besides, something made that bloodstain and it must still be around given how fresh it looked.

Like you, but different... For some reason she didn't understand, Kid's hand went to the amulet, secured in her pocket. Maybe she was just trying to ensure it was still there, or maybe something else, some unknown force guided her to it...

"It's... the ultimate treasure," she's looking down, focusing on those spatters of blood. "I've— been searchin' for it me whole life... But no one's ever seen it. They say it can grant wishes, maybe even... make a person immortal..." There was more to it than that, not anything she could put into words, but something... she just seemed to know somehow.

Could it be the flame itself was calling out for Serge? No, that was stupid... wasn't it?

"Corrin's right. Let's just... keep movin'." They wouldn't find any answers by simply standing still.

Serge frowns. "If that's true... I mean, why would it come to me? I didn't have this, did I?" Serge turns, looking up at the massive building before him... and walks forward, through the open doors.

Inside, the place has a similar feel, almost, to the Curti Center. The air of a research center of some kind, with plasma screens on several walls, devoid of power. A marble statue of a spectacled woman with arms outstretched stands at the center of the entryway, a face that Kid would know all too well- with a plaque at the base, reading in faded words:

MAY THERE BE EVERLASTING PEACE
FOR THE CHILDREN OF THE WORLD.
2400 C.E.

Serge frowns. "Is this... from the future? I thought the calendar in El Nido had the year as 1020, or something like that..." There are robots, too, around the place. All seemingly powered on, but all silent, unmoving. "Okay. So what's the deal with this place, it's got crazy technology and a plaque that dates it to 2400, but as far as I remember, the current date is 1020 in the other Serge's, uh. World. But this place looks like it's been here for thousands of years, and there was that boat on the shore that looked like it was handmade with traditional implements- I'd know, Dad used to make canoes just like that. This is just... really friggin' weird..."

Edited 2019-04-29 14:13 (UTC)

A shake of the head is to answer his first question— as far as Kid knew, the other Serge may have only heard about it from when she had first mistaken the Dragon Tear for the thing back in old man Viper's manor. The thoughts are weighing heavily on her mind as they press on, squinting at those blank screens as they approach...

"No way..." she breathes, looking up at that statue. "That's—" Sis?! But 2400 CE how could that even... She'll take a moment or two to try and digest this, pressing her lips together as she strains to try and untangle the stories she'd heard Lucca tell her in the past. But those had just been stories... hadn't they?

"No, you— yer right. It should only be about 1020..." There was something more fishy than just that boat going on here.

"Okay, so... we've established that it's only 1020. Yet here's this plaque from like 2400, but this place looks like it's old enough to be ruins, but it's being... maintained, I guess, by all these robots. But there's statues of people here, so... where are the people? What happened here..."

The hairs on the back of his neck are standing on end, the faintest sense that there's something- something important that he's forgetting. Something on the tip of his tongue.

His attention is diverted, however, by the sound of voices, echoing a fair distance down the hall at the far end, out of sight.

"Hello?!" His voice echoes off the walls, but there's no response, just the continued sound, snippets of an argument of some kind.

"-he won't make it a little longer Miguel, I'm done arguing-"
"- not making sense, it's like you've been drunk ever since-"
"-explain why, I just need to-"
"-to yourself, Wazuki!"

Serge stops, eyes wide for an instant. "Waz- that's my Dad!" He's running, then, having not even realized he'd started moving, sprinting towards the source of the noise, through the doorway at the other end of the hall.

She can't help it. Slowly, she approached that statue to lay a hand on the plaque while Serge tried to piece the impossible together, torn away only by the sound of the distant voices. Kid's looks up, and around the room— knowing she probably wouldn't find the source but her ears perking in their direction all the same.

"Wait, yer—?" Did he say dad?! More importantly, there he goes! "Serge!" She takes off, sprinting to catch up and trail at his heels. This place was freaky enough— and getting separated seemed like one of the worse options on how they should proceed, really.

But— how could his father have been wrapped up in something that involved Home World...? "Wait up, would ya!"

Talk of different eras is hard for Corrin to parse when it's not her world so she mostly leaves that to Kid and Serge to figure out, keeping an eye out with the others. Whatever the deal with this "Chronopolis" place is, it unsettles her to no end. The entire place feels unnatural to her, and it keeps the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

When Kid approaches the statue, Corrin goes with her, keeping her hand on her sword the whole time. Something about the statue has really caught her interest. She glances at the inscription, up at the statue of the woman (no one she recognizes, of course), and then back at Kid. "Kid?" She asks quietly. "What is it?" Something about the statue has really captivated her. "Do you know who that is?"

But then Serge is talking about hearing more voices, including that of his father-or at least a version of his father-and he's off and running, with Kid hot on his heels. Naturally, Corrin is not far behind, quickly motioning Frisk and Klonoa to follow her.

"Serge, wait up!" She calls. "We can't risk getting separated!"

Klonoa has been having a very poor time of things so far. After the water debacle, he's barely said a word this whole experience, but now with the rest of them running, he can't help but try to keep up.

"Serge, wait for us! We'll come with you, but if you get out of sight.. We don't know the layout of this place!"

He's been getting a strange sensation from this place. Sort of familiar... and sort of not. Unease from something he doesn't quite understand--something he doesn't feel very often.

Serge has enough presence of mind, it seems, to slow down, at least- for the others to catch up. But he doesn't wait long, passing through the darkened doorway into another room, an atrium of some kind, with many floors, a single elevator dominating the center, lit by red emergency lighting- and serge yells out at the sight before him, of doors sliding shut.

There's the briefest glimpse of a man with blue hair, the exact same shade as his own, blocking a much shorter man with red hair from entering the elevator, the latter looking worried, the former looking slightly distant, but determined- and clutching the limp form of a child, heavily bandaged, dressings soaked through and dripping blood... a child with blue hair. And then the elevator descends out of sight, leaving the room dark once more.

The world seems to shimmer, for a moment, thoughts racing through his mind. He'd been here, unconscious, dying- that was why he didn't remember. But dad had been, and-
"Miguel. That's... No, I met him. Or Serge did- he was..." What was the relation? There'd been a girl, not Kid, who'd been important-

My dear Leena... may you live in a happier tomorrow.

"Wazuki and Miguel, Leena's dad, they... they were friends. Serge- other-me, got... hurt. Bad. They tried to sail for Marbule, but there was a storm and they got blown off course, to..."

More memories, flickering past like whispers as he hisses in pain, wincing-
"That fire lies hidden in the Sea of Eden-"
"-wasn't called the Dead Sea-"
"-the Frozen Flame has chosen-"
"-Lavos-"

"That child... That wounded child... bring him to me..."

And then the room is silent once more, leaving only the five of them and the stranger with red hair, looking worriedly up at the darkened ceiling, as Serge tries to catch his breath. "I think... we have to get down there. It's important. I think the way out is... at the bottom of this elevator shaft. With my father... with me. Any ideas?"

She only skids to a halt once she's alongside him again, watching as the scene plays out in front of them— the two men and a wounded child. When the pair of blue disappear, it was only then that she noted the heaviness of her own breath, the way her shoulders rose and fell.

Kid hesitates at first, as Serge winces— but her gloved hand eventually pats down on his shoulder, an attempt at reassurance that they were all here for him. That he was no longer that suffering child that he had been the first time he'd apparently come here. Her eyes say the words that she'd voiced so many times on their adventures together, in Home World, Another, and Vaikuntha alike— You all right, mate?

And Lavos. Gods, why did that name resound somewhere deep down inside of her?

"Oi," she called out, staring straight ahead, hand still resting on Serge. "Yeah, you—" she called out to the man, Leena's father, was it? "You can hear us, can't ya?" After all, he was least apparition looking person they'd come across so far despite... still being an apparition somehow. "You heard 'im, right? We gotta get down there so get that thing back up here!"

The brief glimpse of the bloody, bandaged child recalled one of Corrin's deepest, most primal fears, especially since becoming a mother herself. The other Serge didn't look much older than Kana, but his wounds were grave. She puts a hand to her mouth in shock with a sharp intake of breath. But then the doors slide shut and he's out of sight. He's fine. He's going to be fine, she knows. She's seen memories of this other Serge later in life. He's going to make it.

With a shake of her head, Corrin forces herself to focus on the matter at hand. As Serge-her Serge-doubles over in pain, Kid is quick to check on him, so Corrin contents herself with trying to sort out the cacophony of voices that brought on the attack. The Sea of Eden? The Dead Sea? One of those places sounds pretty good...the other, not so much. The Frozen Flame is the artifact they're trying to retrieve, according to Kid. But what the heck's a Lavos?

Ignoring Miguel, since Corrin isn't sure if he can in fact see them, she instead approaches the closed elevator doors. "Okay, there must be a panel or something, right?" She asks. "Something we can use to call the elevator back..." She looks back at the others. "If not, maybe we can force the door open and try to climb down the shaft?" Though she sounds like she's not a big fan of that idea, for obvious reasons. For the time being, she focuses on trying to find a button or panel of some sort.

Corrin's efforts find that the door seems to be mechanically shut- it could probably be pried open, but it would take tools of some kind to obtain leverage. There's also a button, the only thing still lit in the room, which responds to her summons with the faint whirrr of machinery as the lift approaches.

Serge jumps, when the hand is placed on his shoulder, but he relaxes again, smiling weakly at Kid. Though, when the red-haired man turns to look at him, he inhales sharply as the rush of memories comes back. They'd fought him. Him and Norris and Radius and Harle- they'd nearly died doing it. Miguel was Leena's father, but he was an enemy, a puppet of FATE through no fault of his own-

"It's alright," comes the soft voice. "You don't have to be afraid here, Serge. It's not your memory, after all."

At first, he's surprised. But then, Lynx had changed subtly in response to Corrin, hadn't he? Maybe it's less like a memory and more like a dream...? "You're confused, and that's understandable. On some level, you remember who 'Miguel' is, and know him to be a puppet of she who is called, 'FATE'. You- or, rather, Serge-in-the-guise-of-Lynx, fought him, and nearly died in the process. All because FATE wanted to keep you from the item she couldn't stand being yours..."

"The Frozen Flame," Serge said, with realization.

"Of course." the man shrugged, leaning against the elevator door. "It's down there, you know. The Flame, FATE, and, I think, your ticket out. I doubt very much that you'll find much in the way of obstacles, it's just a matter of finding your way- it's not you that 'she' wants. But, once you have it..." He smiled wanly. "I don't think she'll be too happy. Tread carefully, Serge. I hope, for your sake, that we don't meet again."

The lift doors open, revealing an interior of polished metal. Curiously, perhaps, no buttons exist for floors below '1'. There is, however, a slot for a card of some kind. Perhaps finding it would open the way- or perhaps they could just climb down.

The Jewel of Jewels

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wowowow im so sorry guys i thought i had tagged this back o_o

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aughhhh i'm sorry it took so long to tag

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