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Lilian Rook	There is a strong adage that 'nobody goes to London'. That isn't strictly true. People, few as they are, go to London for exactly the reasons they shouldn't.     It's a rarity that the capital city of an entire country fell during the Onslaught; by nature, the largest, most developed, and most important cities are the most heavily defended, and as time goes on, the natural place for others to evacuate to and seek asylum. The old United Kingdom especially was certainly known for no shortage of Enlightened history and power, on top of military money.     In this way, London is famous for its overnight collapse; as the site of an unprecedented attack by eleven Titan-class Antegent simultaneously; the second largest recorded gathering being 'two'. Despite the functional annihilation of the threat over the apocalyptic battle, quarantine, and repeated strike operations since, London is known as a sprawling death trap, known for the way that the number of its monsters never seems to go down for long, and how its urban ruins have been perverted into a gauntlet of lethal danger across every single block.     People only go to London for three reasons: for study, for training, and rarely, because someone paid a great deal of money to attempt to retrieve something left behind. The first two kinds don't go far in. The last kind don't return often.     What Lilian is doing, is thus, effectively unprecedented. Deemed more or less suicidal. Nobody has gotten further into the center of London than Kensington and returned alive since it fell. This is the type of thing that could only be approved (and only in the loosest sense) by the prodigy that the operations director of the Immunes skipped ahead three years in training, 'training' a unit made of members that are technically equally under the Paladins' jurisdiction, and accompanied by a small army of experienced Elites that Aren't Their Problem.     Lilian, moving completely alone, has gotten all the way to Waterloo, directly bordering the eastern bank of the River Thames. The surrounding blocks were a tourist district to the east, Jubilee Park to the west, the King's College campus to the north, the famous London Aquarium to the south, across the street from Saint Thomas' Hospital, and above the locally known graffiti tunnels that once serviced the metro. Between the Aquarium and Hospital, Westminster Bridge crosses the river, leading straight to where Big Ben should be --was-- and the sights of Westminster Abbey, the Imperial War Museum and Her Majesty's Treasury, Parliament Central Hall, and beyond that, Buckingham Palace itself.
Lilian Rook	One could very much be forgiven for not realizing. A few might remember the generalities, for the remainder, the present state of London is a fresh experience. At all times of day, the streets are cast in deep shadow by the permanent ocean of coal black clouds above, illuminated instead by the bloody red glow of the titanic sky-scar that glows ominously high in the atmosphere above the city, around which the indefinite, rumbling storm orbits like a funnel.     The urban landscape is barely recognizable partly for the immense damage it has sustained, erasing building blocks, toppling skyscrapers, peeling up roads, and burying parks and streets under military detritus, but partly for the way that 'nature' has claimed it in the decades since; strangely shaped black grasses and fractal weeds have colonized every crack in the cement, faintly pulsing vines casting blacklight glow from 'hypercube'-looking blossoms, while primeval towers of coiled and branching red and gold flora shed white motes of pollen-light everywhere.     London fell well into the Onslaught, so it was not taken unprepared; there is no shortage of wreckage here, from peeled tanks to crater-swallowed helicopters and drones, to heaps of scorched robotics, endless smashed concrete and ceramic checkpoints and barricades, and the equipment of countless soldiers whose skeletons have long since vanished, leaving only faded human prints and spent ammunition behind to attest to their existence.     Lilian is accomplishing this ridiculous venture by using the spatial slippage magic she'd cultivated in that year at Kamar-Taj, getting all this way by herself and then drawing a receiving point to a heavily prepared, very large, and terribly expensive 'fairy circle' to which everyone else is directed to wait until ready. This is sufficient to warp them into an isolated chunk of relatively intact hotel block, thoroughly concealed and warded by her around the bounds of the building, and apparently set up with what she (and a couple of others) could carry to be something of a fallback point.     A group that has gone ahead of the Elites is here already; tall and heavily built men in matte black, grey, and amber-striped military-grade powered armour have been quickly divided up into fireteams and given rally points at her order, deploying portable barricades, defenses, and engineering at their sergeants' discretion; currently with Lilian herself are two more figures in unmistakable Immunes corp. combat skins, though theirs aren't custom jobs like hers, denoting they must (now) be underclassmen.     A shorter girl with wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and a terribly nervous look, who has thrown a cloak of furs and a belt of leather satchels over her garb, is anxiously helping Lilian with wards, using a heavily embellished staff of ash. Another girl with straight dark brown hair, a very serious expression over an onyx lower facemask, and what appears to be an odachi and yumistrapped over her shoulders in addition to the same standard gear as the others, is carefully applying calligraphic talismans nearby. Neither of them are in a hurry to introduce themselves. Lilian is currently insisting that the two should be staying here; the blonde rather likes this idea, the brunette not so much.
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: Wait at the fairy circle.     You're the boss. Arthur has squatted down and run through games on his Gameboy Advance for a while. It lets him get dumped straight into the zone without too much trouble, and with almost no warning. >Arthur: Greet people     The blonde and the brunette are each harassed pretty quickly with tons of pounds, daps, bumps, grips, grabs, low-fives, and other such maneuvers. "WHAT UP. Y'all keepin' our EXFILTRATION SPOT workin'?" He asks. "Don't know shit about what them TITANS did to LOCAL SPACE for real, dawg, PROBABLY SHOULDN'T MAKE ANY OF MY GATES. At least not those long-ass distances." He looks up to the bleak sky, grimacing and wincing a little. "Shit, dawg. What the hell." He mutters, slipping a pair of sunglasses onto his face and heading to Lilian. "What up, PRINCESS HAUGHTY. ARTHUR LOWELL up in this shit. Ops practice? We wargamin'? Gimmie those QUEST MARKERS for real."
Kale Hearthward	"Lilian!" Kale walks right over whatever conversation she's having with the two underclassmen as he walks over towards her. "All ready for your big command debut? Ready to pull off the impossible? Or have we already done so just by getting here, hah!" "Anyway! I brought sandwiches. And water!" A small picnic cooler is *pomf*ed unceremoniously at Lilian's feet. "Make sure you hydrate! None of us want a dehydrated commander! There's some orange juice in there, too. Just juice and water, but first round's on me at the bar once we get back home and you show those bastards not to bet against you, right? Nobody goes to London? Team Lilian goes to London!" Kale... sounds genuine? It's kind of hard to determine what the ratio is between 'genuine awkward support' and 'purposefully goofy enthusiasm'. He claps her hard on the shoulder and then heads back to start taking the lay of the land through the various windows in this hotel, getting a general sense of the layout before the group heads out.
Ishirou	Ishirou steps through the portal and arrives in the circle relatively easily.  Ishirou is here for many reasons, but foremost among them is to help friends.  He offers a wave of greeting to those here in the group, though definitely waits until they're not setting up wards.  Instead, he uses this free to inspect the terrain.   The AVCS appears around I4 with a flash of magic from his storage systems.  Right now it looks more or less like a standard combat suit you'd see in any mid to high tech sci-fi setting, or perhaps a low-grade rider suit.  It covers him head to toe and puts his head in a rather rad-looking helmet.  More blocky boots and armored parts around vital places and arms.   Then attachments come.  A flight attachment connects first, giving him some bulk and looking more like the traditional flight suits from his home.  Though it's definitely less weighty and bulky than models recovered.  grappling hooks attach to his arms, as an urban environment might need more mobility than hard-hitting weapons, and some other weapon systems appear and attach to his body.   "Alright, with that set up, I can change things out on the fly..." a pause at the sandwiches brought.  "Maybe I should have waited for that.." he says, with a thoughtful look but shrugs.  Nah, he'll get right to work so he can enjoy them /after/ they get what they're here to do.   "Alright, well I'll start with a wide-area scan.  POD, connect in and let's start," To which, the box with arms connects to the back of the suit, as they start.  The first step is to double make sure nothing is immediately watching them because monsters here LOVE to do that.  The next step is to see if there are any major threats in the zones around them.   Then he'll go trying to analyze what he can so he can bring up tactical forecasting and compare it to whatever Lilian's group has encountered, updating everyone's hub.
Tamamo	Tamamo-no-mae is here, as one might expect her to be, knowing her relation to Lilian. Or perhaps not, if one also knew about how regularly Lilian has asked her to avoid risking her safety, while also knowing how dangerous London is. It certainly is dangerous, and should be expected to be, but, maybe, it'll be a little less so for Tamamo's presence. She's certainly in no hurry to head off into the ruined city on her own.     "Hello, Mr. Lowell. It is quite nice to see you. Ah, perhaps you should avoid those longer gates, I do think, as well. The longer a passage, the more likely it is to touch an area that should be avoided, no? Smaller things are more easily hidden. Were we to have greater knowledge of our surroundings, perhaps this would be an easier matter. It should certainly be useful to have your abilities to rely upon. Even for an emergency situation, as of an evacuation, however, I hope you will take proper care that none of our 'opponents' should be able to interfere. One never knows just what moves that opposing side may be able to play."     Like Arthur, Tamamo goes to meet with both of the people asked to stay here, though her focus is on looking over their work, and deciding whether to assist, 'warding' being a strong part of her own skill-set. If it seems to be fine, and "Would you allow for any assistance?" gets negative responses, she'll focus wholly on adding her own, inner area to the rally point, defining a bounded space within which her blessings will, for the period of the mission, be constantly active. With healing and good fortune, it will be the simplest possible matter to deposit any injured at the center of the rally point, without needing to worry about emergency medical aid.     "An aquarium, is it? I recall visiting one, of this land, before. That was a pleasant time," she remarks, to whoever happens to be listening, "though I suppose this one may be much less so. I have some interest in this matter of Her Majesty's treasury, as well. What was most treasured by her majesty, I wonder?"
Go Shijima	Go is here, replacing the usual hoodie with a red leather motorcycle jacket for the colder weather. He looks up at the black clouds above, his brow knitted with concern. "This place... it's so quiet now, so strange... but every part of it tells a violent story."      His glance turns back downwards, focusing on the alien plants growing, claiming cracked asphalt and creeping up the metal husks of downed helicopters. 'Reclaiming' would only be the right word if those plants belonged to any earthly nature. A wary look towards the glowing spores cast by those red-gold, coiled towers has him shifting anxiously on his feet.      The advance team in their powered armor shakes him from his contemplation, and reaffirms him with their preparedness. "Right... if we're gearing up, then. Let's... Henshin!" This place, warded as it is, is the best place to transform without drawing attention.                           SIGNAL CAR//RIDER! - Mach 555!                                An assembly of hardlight pit crew tools rapidly armors him up in spot-fabricated plate. The design is angular and aerodynamic, with two red stripes that call the racetrack to mind.      A heavy laser pistol with a front wheel attachment appears in his right hand, as two red-and-white shoulder capes flare out. Mach gives a two-fingered salute to Lilian, then introduces himself to her friends. "Hi! Go Shijima," he says with his best attempt at cheeriness. "But when I'm suited up, you can call me Mach if that's easier." He naturally couldn't help overhearing the back-and-forth, even if his suit's AI can be really loud.      "If you don't mind me asking... what's so bad about staying here? Aren't there ways you can do that and still help?" He helps himself to some water, angling up the helmet's visor-faceplate to do it.
Persephone Kore	In the summoning circle, Phony waits patiently with a soft radiant warmth. It's hard to imagine her being in a hurry ever, but it's always a litle weird how totally unbothered she is by the passage of time or a lack of stimulation. Maybe she's amusing herself in less visible ways?      She takes a break from her eerie starchild nonsense to be by Arthur's GBA, though. When she approaches the squatting boy, her shadow falls over him with a palpable weight. She smiles an impossible smile and asks an impossible question. "Are you winning?"      ----      On the other side of the teleport, she shuts her eyes, takes a little steadying breath, and then opens them again with renewed brightness. Normally her aura of warmth and ominously vast gentleness follows a kind of inverse-square law that eases people in on approach, but teleporting in like this, it hits Lilian and her subordinates all at once like flipping a lightswitch.      "Lilian!!" she says with a cheery wave, then catches herself and drops her volume a few decibels, covering her mouth for an embarrassed titter. "Oh, are we being sneaky here? Haha, I'm so sorry. I'm just so happy I'll get to see you in your natural environment!"      After her friend, her attention's naturally drawn to the two other women in Immunes gear. Her expression lights up in a kind of recognition when her eyes flit over them, then her mouth opens in a delighted smile. "Oh!! Your hearts are almost as quiet as hers is! Haha, it's really amazing. I can still feel you a little, but you really are getting there! Keep it up!"      "Arina, right? And Satsuki?" They're both offered a fawning handshake. One gets the sense that she wasn't previously told their names. "I'm sure you'll both do amazing! I'm Persephone, by the way. I know you both have a lot to live up to, for yourselves and for your families. But Lilian definitely won't steer you wrong." To Arina in particular: "Tell me what living in the countryside was like sometime!! I've never been."      After hassling them she eventually makes her way to a window, or somewhere else she can peek out, and stares up at the sky with a little dissatisfied frown. Could I get rid of some of those clouds? Should I? A little psychometric probing couldn't hurt. Why is that angry red thing the way that it is?
Miyamomo	Destroyed city.     Dangerous threats.     Delving so deep into it that those who came this far previously never returned.     That's all Miyamomo needs to show her face. She stands within the fairy circle, going through a series of workouts, pre-workouts, and pre-pre-workouts. Slow languid stretches to prepare the muscles become light jogging and other cardio becomes an intense shadow boxing display. The air hisses as he limbs travel through it, striking at unseen foes, her eyes unfocussed.     Eventually, she snaps out of it and lets out a long breath. "Okay, ready! I hope we run into something as interesting as what we saw with that whole sword affair in Japan~"
Cantio	Under normal circumstances, Cantio wouldn't get herself too involved with ventures geared primarily towards aiding those affiliated with the Paladins. She needs to prioritize who she helps, after all, and an operation being spearheaded by someone she's butted heads with so often would more likely than not be set aside in favor of doing literally anything else. These are not normal circumstances, however, and Cantio has many things she's curious about learning, including the world itself and simply seeing how/if she and Lilian can still coexist considering recent-ish events and slightly more recent revelations/donations messages. She's even trying to blend in a bit more than usual, dressed in a darker version of her usual outfit with a black jacket and gray plaid skirt. The lilac purple accents everywhere and lack of general leg coverage still show her as distinctly not-local, though, along with the metal Cadenza-logo'd attache case that she's lugging around. Waiting in the circle is easy enough, at least, since it gives her an opportunity to take stock of who's there and find some relief in seeing a couple of familiar faces. "We should have plenty of time to get that set up once we know what we're up against. If there's anything to go up against and if there's anything that needs setting up, anyway." She comments to Arthur with mild agreement to Tamamo, giggling lightly at the nickname given to Lilian right off the bat. "I'm surprised she lets you get away with calling her that." Wait. Were they supposed to be sneaky? "I'm sure it'll be fine even if we were. Worst case scenario, we have plenty of escape and decoy options if direct combat isn't an option." She tries to reassure Persephone with a laugh, then goes over to greet the blond and the brunette. "Cantio. Pleased to meet you! If either of you need a hand with getting more tech stuff setup, let me know." When Go transforms, Cantio watches the miniature light show like a kid at a fair, and she pumps her fist a little bit before realizing that she's been staring the entire time. "I believe the danger has to do with those Antegent things, but... Er. To be honest, I'm still a little out of the loop on what they are, specifically."
Xion	The operation had been born from an urge. A desire, a need, a keening call to know. A picture-frame. A doorway. A ringing, holding on line two. Inside the fairy ring of safety that the party gather in, a long, twisted-length key sits buried tooth-deep in the ground. The keychain from the hilt rises like a feather in the breeze, jangling and sussurating as it tugs in waves against the planted hilt, the glass-ball lollipop of sworling crimson at the end clattering towards the city. Carried on a breeze, dowsing on gravitational waves, or just being weird. Xion appears in the crowd, pushing from 'around' Persephone like she is still late to the party, carrying an armful of maps. Finding someplace central to lay them down, Xion spreads them wide with black-coated fingers, fingertips spreading the curling paper flat. "So... I had a feeling, that we had to find our way here. If there was something so important, the most important, the first point of contact, that it would all strike here, then, we'd have to learn, right? I was just going alone, or with Lilian. But then, instead, we helped Lilian with her heart. It was worth it. That still means there's things to learn - an 'other' to uncover. When I walked besides you as you explored the mansion, you used a technique that really helped everyone understand - everyone communicate - better. Because of it, we found a brighter, happier ending." Xion looks up, to smile, at Persephone, as she bothers Arthur GAMERBOY ADVANCED. "So we can do that again. That's the idea: To discover 'why'." Xion then taps her finger on the map - of old London - she had spread out, her finger over Buckingham Palace and the British Museum. "Also, I've asked if there would have been any cultural or magical relics held at the castle or the museum, that would be good to get back, we can make a side trip. If we find where the first, most important pin fell, though... Maybe the Antegent can be understood. Even if not as friends - the unknown is terrifying."
Staren	Staren arrives at the circle with the Delilah robot power armor (10' tall humanoid that looks only a *little* bulky with a somewhat rounded shape, forearm weapons, shoulder missile launcher, and a distinctive helmet with an antenna on the back, a ridge atop the head concealing the barrel of some kind of energy weapon, and three orange horizontal slits at eye level. Painted with white plates, black underlayer, and glowy orange accents.) and some squads of robot soldiers in SWAT-level gear, as well as a couple taller stone humanoids with kanobos. And of course the ubiquitous hovering camera drones.     Staren herself isn't waiting *in* the power armor, generally having it remotely follow her close, planning to climb in when there's trouble. As antegents don't care how good your piloting suit looks, she's wearing the old design again; it looks like a leathery-looking material with integrated straps and hard plates on the chest, back, shoulders, upper legs, and knees. The chest and back plates are painted reflective white, as are the gloves and boots, while the rest of the suit is safety orange except for a black bit covering the tail. Her blue messenger bag hangs at her side as always.     Staren is happy to see Arthur and Cantio and of course, Phony! She waits as close to Phony as allowed. Once they're teleported, she wonders why it is that the advance team skews so heavily towards big burly men, but doesn't ask. I4 has armor now! "Oooh, cool armor, I like it! Where did you get that?"     And there is... Lilian. I know it's unfashionable... Staren manages to suppress her instinct to pre-emptively think up retorts for the expected sassing. She hangs back while Persephone goes over to greet Lilian and the immunes, staying close to her armor and watching others transform/gear up.     Staren has visited this city before, so she's not shocked to see the state of it again. Now that she's here, she goes over the plan in her head:     Gather information so that you can use the increased understanding of the Multiverse to solve problems here and elsewhere. ...You know, now that I lay it out like that, isn't that always the plan? And yet, while this IS interesting, and sometimes I want to study specific things, I don't spend my free moments investigating this or more accessible but equally curious worlds. Was the whole endless search for power thing just entirely part of the Archetype? Is my real main goal just making friends and spending time with them in situations I hope to be useful in?     Staren looks over at Arthur, Cantio, and Persephone. And even at the others, who haven't been entirely negative all the time, even Lilian. Well, in the middle of London sure isn't the time for *this* little self-examination. Let's put a pin in it and see what Xion's talking about.     A camera drone has been watching Xion, somewhere in the middle of the explanation, Staren walks up to look down at the maps, if only to be Socially Present since she can see fine through the drones. Discover why here, recover powerful relics. "Sounds good." Staren smiles. "We'll shine the light of knowledge into the darkness of the Antegent, and make the unknown known."
Lilian Rook	The soldiers, even with fully face-concealing black helmets with those tinted glass fronts, give off the sense that they're talking about the new arrivals over their closed comms just by the motions of their heads and hands. The two other Immunes cadets (junior officers, technically) are the more visibly surprised (on account of not wearing helmets (so it's not just Lilian (which is weird))) for the sheer size and variety of the crowd that enters. The blonde goes a little bug-eyed at Arthur calling Lilian by her one-sided nickname, and the brunette desperately tries to look down and not snicker through her cool fanged mask. The both of them exchange looks and whisper about whether Kale is someone really important; blonde wagers on 'foreign prince whom she helped once' and brunette on 'lesser landed gentry who's out to schmooze'.     They're also the more surprised for being hassled themselves. The blonde girl startles hopelessly at just being approached by Tamamo, but then melts in relief, telling her "A-ah! Please! By all means! This is my first time doing it . . . with people watching like this so . . . I'd really like it if everyone didn't have to rely on just me so much, ha . . . You're probably better at it, so . . . ! Oh, and Commander Rook said lots of great things about you! I'm so happy to finally meet you!" She's blushing a tiny bit. Lilian did once say she had her pick.     Go's question is immediately answered by the brunette. "Nobody has ever come this deep into enemy territory like this and probably nobody will again! Isn't it too much to pass up an opportunity like that? I didn't volunteer for Cipher of Swords to babysit! I need to let them see what I can do! Being picked by the Operations Director's rising star is great, but . . ." Blonde responds in some kind of incredibly rural dialectic accented Russian, while the brunette is obviously Japanese, and attempting to use informal language in a very stiff and on-purpose way.     While the two are being harassed with fistbumps by Arthur, Lilian comes in to fuss for what seems to be 'the fifth time on this particular subject' about Tamamo being here, in the sense of one who is resigned, but still committed to making triple quadruple sure. In the impromptu group huddle, she says to Cantio, "Stealth would be ideal. The makeup and frequence of Antegent in London has always been seemingly random, for reasons unknown, and the distribution of Encroachment, Delusion, and Dominion-class threats here is an unknown. A group this large won't move unseen, but we need to keep combat from escalating to the point that it draws in a wide crowd."     Over the map with Arthur returning and Xion laying out the straight facts, she continues. "There aren't any useful reports about the first two hours of the London collapse. From what we've seen though, the things we're calling 'Rivets' fell in large numbers here. You'll know them when you see them. It is imperative you not use any abilities on them that directly depend on magical energy to function; dormant Rivets are known to reactivate upon absorbing magical energy and summon Antegent to them through an unknown mechanism."     She traces her finger over the map until it nearly touches Xion's. "The entirety of the Buckingham area used to be a main nexus of the British Enlightened community, back during the masquerade. Sort of an old boys club and modern mage mecca. Nothing important will be kept in the public areas; probably beneath. The ground zero looks pretty obvious, right? That's probably our ultimate objective. However, crossing the river by flight or teleportation --generally without using the bridges-- is extremely dangerous. We'll have to go through at least one of these features to reach it."
Lilian Rook	The blonde --Arina-- and the brunette --Satsuki-- respond to Persephone with considerably more open startlement compared to Lilian; when Persephone had read her past off of her, Lilian had kept it subtle for weeks and squeezed the information out of her in a private venue, but these two just radiate 'wait you can do that'? "U-um, o-okay? But it wasn't very exciting. I'm sure it'd be really boring to someone like you . . ." "Haha, she better not! I'm putting a lot on the line to be here you know! I wonder how many other candidates I beat out? It must have been a lot!" The two of them also turn out to be terribly polite, in different ways, and thank Kale very much for refreshments, partaking with slightly stunned bemusement in the middle of a hellzone.     I4's scans paint a rather bleak picture; the surroundings are utterly crawling with threats. Most of them appear to be roving or stationary gribblies, some of which look like ambushes, some which look random. Many are lurking inside buildings, and there are few on the streets, but plenty have good views. There are numerous lurking under the street at points with sewer or subway access, especially terminals. The river itself --the entire river-- is a terrible danger zone, save the bridge. Both the College and Hospital are covered in abnormal activity; the latter seems to be the least intense, but also bristles with life signs compared to the former. The tourist district is just a hellhole that isn't worth touching. The tunnel would limit the directions threats could possibly ambush from and keep people out of sight, but it oddly impedes his scans in a way that a few meters of concrete really shouldn't.     Kale can easily verify from the air that there are dark blots of ominous motion in every surrounding block; only the number of subtle wards and misdirections around the specific hotel Lilian has chosen prevents them from coming too close. Going right down the middle to the bridge will put the group in danger from all the surrounding PoIs and the street gribblies at this rate.
Lilian Rook	Persephone's question to the sky is one that aches like a fresh burn, throbbing under a stream of hastily applied cold water.     That light comes from a place that humans aren't meant to go. Maybe somewhere else, somewhere unimaginable, there is a dark scar in the sky that someone else was never meant to touch? It tore open like a fault like. The Big One. Long-coming, inevitable, and terrible, written centuries in advance into the celestial machinery. It was widened by all sorts of horrible things that weren't supposed to be here, and when humans drove something even more terrible up into the sky and through that scar and sealed it there forever --or so they hope-- but it was only ever meant to do one thing: deliver something to someone special. It missed. But one of its three siblings didn't.     The clouds are irrelevant, despite their spooky red lightning. She can try parting them, but they just sort of go up forever, and the cover of darkness actually isn't that much better for Antegent than it is humans.
Kale Hearthward	> Rivets absorb magic "That's... unfortunate," says Kale, who literally breathes magic. Oxygen in, magic out, like it's nothing more than carbon dioxide - and pretty much *all* of his gear is magitech of some sort. Testing out in the field whether lifebreath magic 'counts' as far as being absorbed by a rivet that then will summon a party-destroying antegent is... not a good thing to field test. "I'll... leave those to someone else, then." As far as the map, he addds the info he's found from his quick scouting flight - largely centered around the bridge. "Probably not a good idea." The rest of the time is spent socializing - largely with Persephone, though he asks a few questions to some others.
Lilian Rook	Lilian clarifies just a little for Kale's benefit. "Quantity matters. I don't think just breathing on it would have enough magical content to reactivate one. But please don't try blowing one away with a tornado or something, okay?"
Ishirou	Ishirou looks over at Staren, who complimented his suit.  Well...okay, that's not unexpected, but it is rather nice to have it complimented.  His feelings on Staren are complicated, given her hostile attitude towards Lilian.  "Thanks, Blemi and I worked very hard on it," he says, "It's made to work with my systems perfectly, and utilize my storage systems.  I mean...I think it's the first time I am bothering to use more than fifty percent of my storage." A surprise revelation of the intention here causes Xion and Ishirou to have a dialogue.  It ends with a very important realization, and a thought that Ishirou hadn't considered.  Xion wanted to understand monsters, monsters who wanted to hurt people.  Eat people...consume them.  Monsters were /bad/ but...at the same time with what he learned... Were they here willingly?  Or rather, their presence here might not be as 'invasion-like' as it seemed.  It puts some things into perspective and other things into question.  So he asks a different question, and he gets an interesting answer and a clue.   However, his data is coming in, the first thing he does is update everyone's tactical HUDs and make sure that people know what they're up against.  There is a lot to go through, but once updated he looked towards the weapon Xion had produced.   His eyes glow, bright and blue.  It's /striking/ how bright they become, as he focuses all of his attention and power into scanning it.  The feelings behind it, the connection to other antegents that were here.  He scans hard and takes his time while comparing it to the data he just got locally.  There was a path towards the goal the Xion had helped bring them together for... Ishirou was determined to help map as much of it as he could.
Go Shijima	Mach closes the visor, once he's had his water. "That's a difficult position to be in," agrees Go with the brunette. "You know, Lilian is a really good leader. I've worked with her a few times before," he adds conversationally.      "If she asks somebody to do something, or especially to come along," he continues, "It's because she believes that person can really make an impact. Think of it this way," he poses, leaning on the nearest, most stable wall of the staging ground, "If this operation is successful enough, maybe it -won't- be the only one of its kind."      On the matter of tactics, he offers a nod. "'No magic' I can handle." he confidently asserts, patting Kale on the shoulder. "Stealth..." The white-and-red armored hero gestures up and down to himself. "Maybe not, but 'decisive, short combat...' absolutely. If it becomes necessary."
Staren	Staren is ignorant of Ishirou's thoughts and so can't get into the whole Lilian thing. Maybe sometimes not knowing what others are thinking is a blessing. "Internal storage? Like an extradimensional space? I didn't even know you had one... Not sure if that's because you didn't use it much or I'm just unobservant, though." As her HUD and automap update, she stares at it in that way someone looking at something only they can see does, "Oooh... where are you getting all this? Wait, did you already find the local antegent and connect to them without their knowledge? Nice..."
Cantio	Although Cantio's made up her mind to work with Lilian on this one, actually talking to her directly is still rather awkward for her to initiate right away. Thankfully, Lilian does the initiating, albeit in the form of mission information and details rather than small talk. Inwardly, Cantio's actually somewhat thankful for that. Outwardly, she's still a little stiff while responding. "If we're looking to keep things from escalating too much, then..." There's an uncomfortable noise as Cantio looks over at her attache case. "I can handle drawing their attention away from our main group if... When it comes to that. Easier targets splitting away from the main group would be easy to pick off and probably more tempting to pursue." She guesses with an uncomfortable noise, looking over at Xion when she identifies today's goal. "But I thought the Antegent were the threats here. Is that... You know what? Okay." It doesn't take long before Cantio nods in agreement and claps her hands over her face as if trying to psyche herself up. "Let's do it. Xion's intuition hasn't steered me wrong before, so..." She leaves that thought hanging as she looks over Ishirou's maps, reading over the data and listening to what is and isn't a threat. Also, all the red X's and stop signs. She inhales slowly, then lets out a long breath that's usually a good indicator of someone trying to figure out something. "So heading through the College might be our best bet. If it's not exposed too much, we might be able to minimize how much fighting we need to do as well. And..." She looks over at Miyamomo. "How do you feel about precision strikes? It might not be the same as going into a huge crowd, but letting loose on smaller groups to see how fast you can go...?" Cantio tries to make it sound appealing with a light chuckle, then holds up a drone for emphasis. "I could even capture some footage if you'd like."
Tamamo	"Oh, Mach, is it?" Tamamo pronounces the name in a Japanese, rather than English, manner, which might therefore sound a little odd to most of the people who aren't Go. "I do recognize your voice. It is a pleasure to see you in person. Or should I say, 'in action'? Ah, but I do hope that there is not 'too much' action, today. A relaxing trip is preferable, even if unreasonable to expect."     At Miyamomo's starkly differing expectation, Tamamo allows, "Should it resolve as well as that, in such a case, I suppose I would have few complaints, excepting the unreasonable. There, however, we did investigate that done in greatest secrecy. Here, we find its opposite, and the only fog is that maintained by a border of death. Can one be so optimistic? Ah, but perhaps you might. If I might I ask, is it only confidence that supports your curiosity, Miyamomo-san, or would you feel the same, if you thought your skills unsuited to a task?"     Tamamo smiles pleasantly at even the odder inclusions to the party, to include Persephone, Cantio, and Staren. Tamamo's own atmosphere, which is mostly a mundane matter of expression, tone, body language and motion, is warmly accepting, even though her words are ambiguous. Her thoughts, should one have the ability to check, hold no surprises, nor contradiction to her tone. Someone would likely need to be quite distrustful to suspect it a meticulously laid disguise of intention, ultimately marred, so far, only by what she refuses to actually say.     Even some of those she's never met before, she knows just what they look like. It's as if she's already seen them frequently. That removes any need to pay too much attention to them. Certainly, there are things to keep her busy. Xion's maps, for instance. "You are divining a position, no? My, but you do attempt a very difficult task. And yet, a most valuable one. I see, now, the reasons." She takes a bit to consider 'the unknown.' "We cannot know what good may come of it without making the attempt, in any case. You know that I shall help as I am able, I hope."     At the platinum blonde's surprised greeting, Tamamo says, "Oh, then, if it is no trouble. Ah, forgive my ignorance, but might I ask your name?" And at her acceptance of aid, Tamamo inspects her work, not overlaying her own, but using her own expertise in wards and boundaries to check its completeness, and gently point out where the layering could be made more secure, and where additional efforts would be redundant. It's easy to build thicker walls around a fortress, but if gaps are left, there's not quite so much point in it. Best to know where an attacker would be wisest to focus, and make them unwise.     At Lilian's repeated concerns, Tamamo only says, "Could I allow you to undertake such a thing, on your own? Could I allow it to you, and Xion, and a few others? Perhaps, but you will allow me this, will you not? It is an expression of my own concern, you know, that I provide what aid I may. I shall never bring myself to the fore, if that should slightly ease your mind. Have no fear of that. I have not the same urge to glory as is so much more attractive in knights."     Regarding places to go, she looks a little disappointed. "Oh, is there nothing to see of the treasury, then?" But she brightens up again. "I shall move however you would think best, then."
Lilian Rook	Satsuki stares at Go very seriously over her mask. "You'd better mean that." she says. It hits him like a punch to the chest that's a little too hard to be as friendly and joking as it wants to be. "'There will be other times'. 'You'll get there eventually'. 'You're paving the way'. Adults lie about that all the time. If everyone decide it's not worth it and we all just go home, I'll never forgive them."
Lilian Rook	Lilian quietly relents at Tamamo's insistence. She gives off the air of someone who has never successfully said no to the kitsune, literally once, ever. "We'll get the opportunity to scout the treasury once we cross. Officially, it's just the name of the finance wing of the British government. On the secret society side, there used to be a substantial reliquary hidden there; a lot of it stolen from other countries, I'm afraid."
Persephone Kore	"No, I'd really love it a lot, Arina! Even if it's plain to you, it'd be new and special to me, I promise. So much green- haha, wait, no! It was more white and brown, wasn't it?" Satsuki gets a brief, but heartmelting, eyes-shut sunny look. "I get the sense she's really happy with the choices she's made. Impressing her is hard, but I think you can do it!"      Phony stares out the window for a few seconds longer than she really needs to, memorizing the story that the sky-scar whispers to her. Her eyes reflect its ugly red light as she absentmindedly chews on one of Kale's sandwiches. It's Xion who jars her out of the contemplation, making her turn around and blink away her fascination with a slightly sheepish expression. "Aha, sorry. It's sort of fascinating, isn't it?"      Her eyes drift down to the maps, then shut in restful thought as she soaks up the explanation and returns Xion's smile (and Tamamo's, not prying deeply enough to look beneath her warmth). "There were a lot of reasons we got that brighter ending. You, Tamamo... Lilian herself being strong enough to pick a happier future. Flamel. Everyone else who was there to 'fight' her with feelings. Everyone was so amazing that I really believe it would've gone okay even without me."      "But that power does help. I can definitely answer 'why' for you! Ahahaha, but this really is new. For someone to want my help in solving a puzzle; something about reaching and understanding, instead of doing and shaping. I really am no good at that. If I give you my answer, you'll help us all figure out what it means, won't you?"      Her hand rests on her cheek in contemplation. Her eyes open again, sparkling with expressive purpose. Bridging a gap between worlds. Learning to understand the alien, to make it known to us, to make it more human by comprehension. Yeah, I really am feeling it. "And together, we'll find a happier future even here. I like that plan a lot! Thank you, Xion."      Her takeaway from the tactical analysis is characteristically simple, mostly focusing on Lilian's comments about dividing their combat strength equally: "I'll stick close to Xion, then! Haha, I'm really not any kind of fighter, so I'll really be relying on you to keep me safe, okay? I know you're up to it!"
Miyamomo	Miyamomo, after having her idea of 'draw them all out and fight them so everyone else can handle the parts of this that involve remembering things' shot down, pouts. But only a little bit. There's always other fights to have.     Looking to Cantio, she titters. "If you have one to share, certainly. Please make sure to put some of those funny amendments people use. Like that booming sound, I like that one." Looking to Tamamo, she shakes her head. "It is purely curiosity. Who knows what I might find, what I might learn? Perhaps a passion that rivals mine for fighting? But I have all the time in the world~ Should a chance pass me by here, another will come in time."     Taking a look at the updated map, she taps the tunnels and calls out. "I shall take these grahfeetee tunnels. Anyone who cares to accompany me is welcome~" And with no more than that, does she step out of the fairy circle and make her way.
Lilian Rook	Lilian sort of stares at Persephone in exasperated wonder. Then just a little extra for no reason. "You're kidding me." comes the dry response. "Well, I'll be glad to know that Xion is safe at least. Not that I was really worried."
Persephone Kore	Phony returns Lilian's stare utterly unflinchingly, cheek in hand. She knows exactly what she's about: watching cool heroes be their best selves."It really is true, though! Besides, she's the one who wanted me to help her communicate, isn't she? We'll do great together."      A slight pause. Her smile doesn't waver. "Though if you wanted to send someone delicate like Ishirou with us, too, I'm sure Xion could also protect him."
Xion	Xion, at the maps, looks up to meet Lilian's look with a fond one of her own, and thumb and forefinger to reach forward and pinch Lilian's indicating digit. "Well, it's the part I'd expect to be important, so it's where I'd start. How about. . ." Xion claps her hands. "Then that's what we'll do, okay?" Xion thumbs back at Persephone, taking the whole of the flattery at face value as Lady Enormous looms over her crouching map-expressing shoulders. "Since Tamamo wants to go, and Persphone wants to go with me, Ishirou wants to get something tangible and Lilian would know what to look for, how about..." Xion points at Cantio, Persephone, and Kale. "You three come with me, and we'll find where the first pins dropped. Kale wants to learn about hearts, and Persphone's..." Xion looks 'up', until practically upside down, to look 'up' at Persephone and can't see the other girl's face due to obstruction. She mutters. "Big." Another set of points. "Miyamomo, Ishirou, Lilian, and Tamamo can go after the buried relics. If all we have to do is cross a river, nonmagically:" Xion giggles. "Maybe Miyamomo can just toss people. If she tosses Persephone and I, we can definitely catch people on the other side, too... Right? That'll get us across without doing anything too weird, and then we'll best-path through things." Xion shrugs at Staren. "You can pick a team, if you like. First Rivet, or Lost Relic. I'd say relics, since you're having problems communicating, but. . ." She frowns. "You probably shouldn't be on Lilian's team to start. Unless you want to be?"
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: Are you winning?     "I'm always WINNING. I'm a GAMER." A confident eyebrow peeks up from behind Arthur's sunglasses, flanked on either side by a grin snaking up his cheeks. "What's the matter, never seen a VIDEOGAME?" >==>     Arthur's used to being talked about. The soldiers here are given fingerguns gestures. And Arthur approaches the maps, listening to the nature of the situation from Xion. He nods a few times. "Getting that DIALOGUE huh? Almost had one WAY BACK, but they almost NEVER... well shit, you think you can do it, I'm ready for more CRYPTIC CHATS." The nod goes from awkward to eager over time. "Or at least DIGGING UP THE OLD STUFF." He locks onto Xion. "I'm on YOUR TEAM for this one, got all my THINKIN' STUFF still working even if I'm stuck on the BROOM and NOTHIN' ELSE." He glances to Persephone as she vows to stick with Xion too. >Arthur: Remember, no magic     "Yeah, definitely going along." He says, nodding firmly. He knows nothing about Persephone Kore, which means he can give her that confident thumbs-up. "I'm stuck on MOSTLY-COMBAT DUTY for this, so SURE THING, yo." He doesn't know the truth. "So... HOSPITAL or COLLEGE, then BRIDGE, then we figure the CULTURAL AND GOVERNMENT STUFF over there and press into the PALACE. Looks like HOSPITAL has MORE NUMBERS but LESS ACTIVITY, maybe easier to CHARGE THROUGH!"     With a flick, his Strife Deck draws the battle-broom and sits on it side-saddle, its rockets hovering in place while the rest of this finishes up. When it's time, he blasts off with all force, in precise jet-maneuvers that maximize the speed at which he'll reach whichever one Xion leads them to! But his default approach will be the hospital, with the intent to blast through its hallways at maximum speed and a yelling setting of maybe 4/10, so they can cut a path to the bridge! He intends to offer his broom for any speedy hover-rides! And he plans on smashing the most direct path he can to the palace, working the stealth approach most known to co-op horde-shooters of simply going too fast for the waves to descend too quickly. Gotta get at rivet #1!
Kale Hearthward	"That works for me," says Kale, shifting animation loops from 'idle' to 'ready to go'. "I'm curious as to whether you really can reach out to one of these things again, and actually talk to it, that's... quite a feat, if you can."
Staren	Staren's ears perk up and she looks over at Phony who, oh, is suddenly here while Staren was looking at the maps. Her expression is almost always so warm... but Staren feels jarred as Persephone recounts the incident with Lilian, and looks away. That final fight has been drifting in and out of her mind as one of the things her computer picked up on Lilian being mad about. She thinks I didn't do enough. I don't know what I could have done, I was tired of dying, and my talking wasn't getting through to her, and I don't know if my immortality works across sectors with no more spare bodies to warp in... I want to apologize to her, at a better time. But if she's right... that trails off into a fog of badthought that slides away under Persephone's aura after a few moments.     Once Staren's mind reorients, she gives the taller girl a hug since she's right there. If we're splitting up, It's best if I stay away from Lilian, so I guess we won't get to talk much. We'll talk more later...     And then Persephone announces that... Wait. She's *not* going with Lilian? That means Staren gets to be around her? Not like it's a date, it's a horrible hell city, and since they are NEVER SAFE Staren is going to be in the armor the whole time, but Persephone's nice to be around.     Although as people start declaring themselves for team not-Lilian -- for team Xion -- Staren begins trying to mentally add up who's going where. Is she going to be stuck on team Lilian just by the numbers?!     Xion addresses her directly while she's working this out. "Uh?" Staren blinks. She looks over at Phony, and at Lilian, and at Xion. "Well... of course! I do want to talk to Lilian, but this isn't the time or the place, I think... yeah. Team you is... I'll stick with you, if that's okay."
Tamamo	In need of a direction in which to go, Tamamo listens to Xion, and nods, though also frowns. "Being tossed sounds terribly undignified, but if Lilian is quite alright with someone else carrying me, I suppose I could allow it, if only for safety's sake."     Brightening again, she claps her hands together. "Well! In any case, I do believe that, with both Lilian and Miyamomo, I should be perfectly safe, and Ishirou is quite good at detecting danger, which strikes me as somewhat more important than fighting our way through all obstacles, in this instance. If all is well and decided, let us go."     Fox makes to follow fox.
Go Shijima	"Oh, my pleasure, really," says Go with muted politeness. The general atmosphere of this place makes it somewhat hard to be completely chipper. "I certainly wouldn't mind a relaxing trip if the antegents wouldn't mind," he dryly adds.      But this is already going to be difficult, and unsettling. He should make an effort to be more reassuring. And so--"Trust me, Satsuki. -If- that happens, then I'll take responsibility," he says, jutting a thumb into his chest. "And I won't rest until you get that chance to show them what you're made of."      With that... "I'm with you guys," he says to Xion, Persephone, Cantio and Kale. He's done a lot of learning about hearts, but there's always room for more, after all.
Xion	"Oh, right, dignity. Nah, normally my plans don't price dignity in." Xion explains honestly, rising while drawing up her maps, banishing them with meaningful flick of the wrist to her inventory, and moving to the planted keyblade in the ground with its dowsing-chain. Fixing Persephone with an odd look -- a context she understands immediately, but is not otherwise obvious -- and then sighs. "Well, let's do the overland then. I didn't put Arthur on a team and--" She points at the charging-off god. "He took off." Literal. To Staren, Persephone, and Cantio, Xion makes a small gesture. "Um, hello, I'm Xion, I've only tried to stop one of you previously, so, I've got a key and hit stuff, and uh..." She looks down at herself, to summon up some other fact from the countless multitudes. "Nah that pretty much covers it." From her pensive-thoughtful position, Xion tele-glitches a few dozen paces off after Arthur mid-jog, key over shoulder. "Come on, before we spend all night thinking about doing stuff real hard. Imagining's fun, but it's only communicating with yourself."
Cantio	"Amendments...? Oh! Editing, yes. Dont' worry, I'll make sure to add plenty of those where it'll really pop off." Cantio replies to Miyamomo with a confident chuckle,  pulling one of her drones over to make a note as such for later before letting it go back into standby mode and floating by her head. Xion suggests team formations, and Cantio gives her drone one more order: Follow by Miyamomo, and record what she's doing. That should take care of that matter, leaving herself to focus more on the actual objective and the team she'll be working with. "That works for me. I'd like to see where it goes, too." She replies in vague agreement with Kale, seeming only mildly nonplussed at his general presence. There might still be a bit of sourness there. "I think it'll work out. Between you and Phony, we'll have our best shot at understanding them from a mental perspective rather than just the physical. I mean, even though they do mental stuff, it's... You know what I mean. And with Mister Shijima and Hearthward, we'll have plenty of speed on our side." Clearing her throat, she follows up on Xion's introduction with a quick, flashy pose of her own. "Cantio, pleased to meet you all. Er. Again. I'm... I guess  I'd be the fill-in spot on a team? Since I don't really hit as hard or move as fast as a specialist, but I can heal! And I know a thing or two about messing with machines."
Kale Hearthward	"Alright, then - oh, she's gone." Kale glances out the nearest window, looking for her, and then heads out through it after her (opening it first if necessary). Staren can catch up. Or not. "I mean - hitting things with a giant key isn't to be underestimated," suggests Kale as he catches up with Xion and Arthur. "That's - that's not what the power of heart is, though, right? I just want to make sure it's not something really simple like that that I've overlooked, because I feel like I could have had that part down pat already."
Persephone Kore	Persephone puts an arm around Staren and reciprocates the casual hug, suffusing her with a little boost of confidence and warmth. However things work out, I'm sure it'll go great! For better and for worse, Lilian has bigger things to think about right now.      Leaning forward just a little bit to make eye contact with Xion, she flashes the sort of smile normally reserved for stained-glass depictions of saints. "Small," she answers gently but decisively.      "Key and hit stuff. Got it!! I'm sure you'll do amazing, Xion." Turning her beaming expression on Cantio, she adds: "I'll feel a lot more comfortable with you along, too! I already know how amazing you are, Cantio. If anything goes wrong, you can fix it, right?"      Kale gets a little wink before they all take off. She floats along lazily behind the group in Arthur and Xion's wake, wavering somewhere around jogging pace. It's a pretty stark speed difference compared to nearly everyone else, but when they run into an obstacle, she'll likely catch up within a couple moments.
Staren	Arthur already zoomed off! Staren moves to get into her armor, pausing only briefly when she hears Tamamo talk about someone carrying her. A memory flashes through her mind of carrying an injured Tamamo away from a collapsing boss room and then Lilian being Very Hostile. She's briefly concerned for Miyamomo, but... Maybe Lilian's okay with it as long as it's another girl? ...wait the thought collapses under the weight of multiple logical issues, and Staren decides it's not her problem. The Delilah has opened up, she climbs in and it closes around her.     Some camera drones are directed to follow I4's commands and help that team -- the rest of the bots follow Staren as she begins a sort of jumpjet-assisted run-hop thing to try and catch up with the teleporting Xion.     Once she actually *reaches* the building, she waits for drones to catch up before proceeding. If there's room to go inside. Otherwise, she'll try to hop up onto rooftops to get past the hospital that way, while remotely directing the constructs to move through and provide backup to the others.     Staren can always smash through a wall if necessary, after all. Unless it's an unsmashable antegent wall, or internal geometry has been reshaped so that wall-smashing drops you into the In-Between dimension. Freaking Antegent.
Lilian Rook	OUTSIDE:     The moment anyone exits the hotel, the difference in 'air' between a sad, broken, abandoned building, and the hot and humid and not-silent-enough streets, red and black and alien and oppressive, hits all at once beyond the shimmer of wards. The actual distance to cross actually isn't even all that long, measured behind a decimal point in kilometers, but even step feels like a leaden minute of effort. The relative silence swallows sounds of human movement. The rustle of vegetation in the faint breezes that come by, warm and wet like stale breath, sounds subtly wrong. Scraping, scrabbling, clanking, crooning, chittering, the odd unpleasant shriek, and once, a sound like a distant whalesong slash demented electric train horn only add to the unwelcoming ambiance.     It doesn't take long to be violently accosted. As Lilian promised, the enemies that can be encountered on the streets are 'leftovers'; a disorganized rabble of low-level monsters that may each, in of themselves, be enough to surprise and overwhelm a squad of normal soldiers, but are irrelevant save in numbers to experienced Elites.     Roving packs of bioluminescent and fleshy DARPA nightmares patrol like wolves, raising spines like hackles and hunting with wickering mantis legs. Serpentine horrors of shifting iridescence crawl near-invisibly along the ground to snag the unwary in gravitic pincers and whip them out of sight down alleys and manholes like living bungie cords. Uncanny animal-shapes like lambent glass --a deer here, grazing at an intersection, fireflies here, dotting a wall-- flash glittering psychohazardous messages that hurt the brain even looking from too great a distance to understand. Wavering black and white shapes with glowing red eyes lurk in the corner of the eye, their touch planting 'seeds of knowledge' that bloom into ethereal blue cordyceps. Swarms of winged living-ramjet creatures roost in dark steeples and descend in screaming blindness to chase anything too far above street level, and drive liquefying horns into warm and energy-rich targets in tremendous bursts of speed. Floating globs of pulsing sacs and searching tentacles rove around intersections, scanning with the bright glare of paralyzing eyes that bubble up to their surface and descend back into their cores.
Lilian Rook	GRAFFITI TUNNEL:     One of three potential crossings is easily accessed through the right metro terminal, using Xion's old maps. A couple have collapsed, apparently under heavy bombardment from a creeping retreat, but others remain intact where there was no one left to defend. The first thing to notice inside, beyond the miles of colourful urban art covering every inch of the wall, is that the electrical lights turn on, humming slightly unpleasantly in the abandoned, dusty tunnels.     That's not right. Because there's no power anywhere else around here.     Monsters are numerous down here as well, but not significantly worse than the street; despite the odd amorphous thing that hangs from the ceiling, or hard-shelled misshapen giant that fills the hall and requires special attacks to put down, and even despite a terribly obnoxious and persistent shadow-swathed Horned Thing that reappears a few minutes after each time it is killed, the simple terrain, closed quarters, and lack of approaches, actually make even swarms of chaff easier to manage.     Halfway through, the way is blocked by what looks like every train in this loop of the system all having stopped in the same place, beyond which the tunnel simply disappears into an endless black abyss. A second look shows that it isn't a registered train stop; it's a seemingly random stretch of wall, with concrete steps and a generic painted iron maintenance door set into it. Piles of abandoned bags and packs, wallets and toys, even jackets and shoes, lie ominously heaped around the steps. Dark rust-coloured stains are washed deep into the pitted cement under the door, but it's been left ajar and strangely limp, like a broken neck.     The inside is a bare room with peeling paint, a naked floor, random piping in the ceiling, from which dangles a noose right over a dinged up metal folding chair. The graffiti on the walls here is like a blind and deranged AI-generated mockup of outside, its attempts at lettering seeming somehow profane, its artworks somehow grotesque like warm guts; all of the paint is a little runny like blood. A rusted intercom unit straight from the 70s hangs half-functionally from a corner above the only exit door. The handle --and the rest of it-- burn like acid to the touch, and seems nearly impossible to open. This is definitely where the tunnel completely vanishes from Ishirou's map; the spooky abyss and the side-room that doesn't exist, both.
Ishirou	The scan and trying to understand the keyblade offered to him ends in...nothing.  Ishirou sags visibly in his setup, feeling this was something fundamentally wrong on his end.  He assumes this is why he's on the other team the moment he offers to help Xion.  Which causes a bit more of a sag.  "A-alright..." he says, and simply swaps equipment to less a flying machine, to floating.  Keeping the grappling hooks and other equipment. He follows, quiet as people move towards the tunnel.  Others probably lead the way in violence, but instead, Ishirou attempts to scan monsters as they go, trying to get a feeling for what they were dealing with in a different way.  Was he just not able to understand anything else, or is his way of interacting with the world flawed..?   "This is ...where the map stops.  Whatever this room is, is the cause of the interference.  Maybe it's another space completely, which...I don't know what I can really help with here..?"
Lilian Rook	SAINT THOMAS HOSPITAL:     Cutting straight through the hospital campus is the straightest shot to the bridge from the Waterloo hotel district. At its front-facing end, the main building, emergency department, outpatient pharmacy, and Evelina Children's Hospital as its sister attachment --itself a slightly grim reminder of who would have been so close to ground zero back then, no matter how logically obvious it is. Beyond that, the Florence Nightingale Museum, medical library, and hospital chapel, though it's more of an entire church.     Any two can be connected front to back end to reach the bridge. Strangely, the Mary Seacole memorial is still there, right by the on-ramp, as if the furious fighting had just forgotten about it. It serves as a deeply helpful point of reference, because from the first step onto the campus, every sight line changes. Buildings block sight of each other in ways they shouldn't, paths don't open up in ways they should, doors and windows slide away when approached, replaced with new ones that rush up out of nowhere. It is, immediately, incredibly difficult to figure out how to actually leave.     Universal to every building, every lot, every public and private ward, is an eerie, soundless crowd of human-shaped shadows, upright and three dimensional, semi-seethrough, blind and oblivious, acting out long and varied but firmly set loops. Sooty footprints and handprints are left behind in otherwise spotless, sterile white halls, pacing out their infinite tracks. Though they aren't aggressive, touching them is instantaneously awful; it's not like walking through a ghost, but more like having razor sharp claws pushed through flesh, exsanguinating enormous amounts of blood without leaving visible entry or exit wounds.     Though there are ample signs of an attempted emergency evacuation, every vehicle in the yard long gone, rooms with still-running machines hastily disconnected on emergency power, damage to doors and elevators, the children's hospital is specifically unique as an exception, instead only surrounded by a scatter of discarded personal items left all along the paths behind it to the west, along to the bridge.     The 'vegetation' is incredibly dense around here, ostensibly sprawling out from the church, where it seems the roof has been caved in by something very large hitting it from above at high velocity. The glowing 'pollen' in the air is both intangible and highly toxic, as well as disorienting and soporific, even seeping inside through cracked open windows. Though it appears there are no 'monsters', wiggling flora with blades and claws and snapping mouths and stinging tongues and grabbing tendrils are an ambient killer hazard of themselves, making the spatially distorted maze even more dangerous to navigate.
Tamamo	Tamamo said she wouldn't go to the fore, and that's a promise she keeps. Rather, she hangs back (and encourages Ishirou to do the same), so the combined strength of Lilian and Miyamomo can take care of the dangers in front of them. Her talents are more useful at warding and, where preventative measures are insufficient, supplying cures. She's quick to notice the effects of curses, even very subtle ones, and disrupt their effects. With this group, she doubts that curing poisonous bites will be necessary, but she has charms ready for that, too.     On the other hand, she isn't really capable of stealthy action. She can clothe her presence to some extent, but it's only down to the point of somewhat resembling a human's. She can't go any further than that. Hopefully, that won't really matter, so long as she stays low and to the rear.     The lights are on. Tamamo's mind turns back, trying to remember something. "Why would they power the lights? Ah, do they wish to avoid darkness, as well? How unexpected, of stalking predators. But then, they have ever been that different, never so much resembling animals. No, forgive that slip of the tongue. They are not predators, at all."     Going just enough forward to try to keep herself, by the clack of her geta, if nothing else, within Lilian's immediate awareness, Tamamo looks around with growing concern for the tight quarters, despite the creatures but not being all that much worse. She'll go to grab her knight's hand, and give it a squeeze, only as circumstances permit.     Though that demeanor hardly changes, Tamamo does react quickly enough to threats once they're realized. The armored thing receives a calcifying charm, hardening its armor yet further into likely painful, brittle immobility. The persistent shadow creature receives a charm of confusion, with enough lasting power to track it back to its source, and perhaps make it difficult for it to continue tracking its way back to its targets.     There is a side room. Tamamo says, "Let us avoid that place."
Kale Hearthward	"... Ugh... is the air bad everywhere in this city..." says Kale, who has never visited a London before. They can't all be this bad, though, right? The shadows are easy enough to deal with in theory - Kale goes high, sticking near the ceiling, out of the paths they'd walk through. He might be able to carry someone else with him while doing this, if needed. He also gets his drill sword out, and employs it liberally as the group advances - using it as an ersatz-weedwhacker, letting the whirling blade shred whatever flora is in the group's path while letting a bit of air magic try to corral the resulting fibers and pollen away from the group's path... if they can find the right path, anyway. On that, he has a thought - carefully casting (so as to breathe in as little as possible) he creates a high pressure area, and observes where the air flows out from it - logically, it should head down corridors that lead towards windows and exits, and not towards dead-ends or on paths that are infinite loops.
Cantio	Persephone's reassurance visibly lifts Cantio's spirits as the case-holder perks up a fair bit. "That's what being versatile is for, mhm!" Feeling rejuvenated, she keeps up with the group through the power of light jogging, mostly keeping pace rather than trying to set it herself by sticking near the rear of the group like some sort of rear guard. Her caution is well-placed, it seems, as the oppressive suck energy of the outside hits her all at once after leaving the hotel. OUTSIDE: As promised, Cantio handles decoy work almost immediately. Not wanting to risk losing more drones out here, she sends out the occasional clone of herself to lure the packs of gross shit away, leaping overhead and into more isolated streets away from the TUNNELS and the HOSPITAL where possible. The goal is to draw as many of those creatures away from where the groups are actually headed, waiting until the last moment before recalling the clone to Cantio's own position so as to not needlessly die (sort of). HOSPITAL: The weirdly impossible arrangement of buildings hits Cantio almost immediately. Broken sight lines means it'll be harder for her to hit her shots at longer ranges, but it also means there's less of a risk of getting shot herself. She continues sending clones out as necessary to try redirecting prowling creatures away from the entrance of the main building, but getting inside is only the half of it. Once inside the hospital proper, Cantio takes note of the odd shadows lingering around. She takes some time to observe their patterns first, wary of even getting into their line of sight, and eventually notices the footprints and handprints that make it easier to track where they'll go. She follows behind them as they move to start getting from place to place in the hospital, although she keeps her sword-gun-whatever ready at her side just in case things start getting loud. Of course, if things go loud, her strategy is less decoy and more 'shoot things that are actively aggressing the group' and 'heal when not shooting'. It's straightforward, but it's the most straightforward option considering the group's makeup. The still-running machines catch her attention, however, mostly in the fact that they're on at all. "That shouldn't be on, should it?" She asks nobody in particular, sounding curious about the fact that anything here is working at all. "Could there be other people working here? But we haven't seen any bodies yet. Only..." She gestures at the abandoned personal items upon coming across them. "Their stuff. Unless... Do you think it's theirs?" She gestures at the shadows afterwards, notably looking towards Xion and Persephone to try and get their read on the situation. Plants, meanwhile, get the heal-through-DOT treatment and also curative magic treatment. She'll leave the weedwhacking to her allies.
Tamamo	Unfortunately, Tamamo has no great ability to resolve Space problems. Being bright, warm, and having impressively deep gravity that pulls others into orbit are all aspects of the Sun, but she doesn't have any particular affinity for reconnecting disconnected pieces of Space. That's more of an Arthur talent, as far as she can tell.     Heading over to the abyssal termination, she attempts to extend, by sympathetic connection and magecraft, to view its length and opposite end.
Go Shijima	"Right," says Go, stepping out of the fairy circle. He keeps up via a short burst of speed. Rather than use the Mach Driver to rev himself up, however, he makes use of jumpjacks in the armor's legplates to propel himself.      The Zenrin Shooter--that heavy energy pistol with the wheel attachment at the front--is kept close by, but his finger only nears the trigger when one of the aforementioned Beast or Spirit class antegents makes it a necessity. In those cases, he employs the SPLIT function of the suit, attempting to overwhelm the nightmarish quadrupeds with split volleys of needling blue energy.      The iridescent serpentine creatures, meanwhile, see the TURN function--darts of energy bending from around corners and obstacles to strike from positions of relative safety. The most difficult for him to deal with are the glass animal-shapes and the masses of tentacles--though something about his inherent mental resistance is enough to keep those messages from taking root, there is still a splitting pain that comes from even looking at them.      These, too, he attempts to handle with the TURN function--though his blind firing is leaving a lot of work to the suit's AI.      By far, the fliers are those he deals with most confidently. Quick-drawing with a rev of the Mach Driver, the suited hero dials a code with his other hand. STOP emits a red semisolid screen, enveloping them mid-swoop to paralyze them with time-dilating energy.      The wheel on his shoulderplate swivels out, on spooling cable, hubcap flipping open as he bounds. A headlight, now revealed, shines light upon the ground where it's necessary, to illuminate uneven or dangerous terrain within the embattled ruins of the city. When the buildings begin occluding lines of sight in ways they shouldn't, go shines the light on them directly to see if there's any change. He takes pictures, too, checking the display on his camera to see if there's any noticeable 'tell.'      With or without any such help, he'll just stick with the group. "I think maybe they're still running because of those," says Mach, pointing to the shadowed figures. "They're stuck in routines. So, maybe..." He checks one of the machines for sooty handprints. "We can use their routines to find a safe way through?"
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: We have to divert into the tourist area     "What?" Arthur rambles, to nobody in particular, as he tries to swipe down some horrible Big Dog enough to get a clear shot at slicing apart one of those horrible serpentine horrors. >Arthur: It has Shrek's Adventure London in it     "What?" He manages to wrench a foot away and continue his blast-off, closing his eyes long enough for his COGNITOHAZARD meter to recover from its dire level and slamming directly into one of those horrible globs of sacs and likely instantly suffering a significant wound. "ARGH! No, were going to the fuckin' HOSPITAL." >Arthur: Survive the path to the hospital     He slams onto the hospital campus, bruised and manic, looking for the proper path forward. Instantly, he swears. "SHIT. LOCAL SPACE is completely FUCKED UP!" He calls out to the others. "And I can't FIX IT without setting off EVERY RIVET IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD." He wanders to one of the nearby ghosts, calling out and trying to get some kind of help. "HEY, GHOST DAD. What's poppin', you know how a homie can get ouAAAAAAAUGH FUCK!!" He pulls his hand back from the oblivious looping shape, immediately putting pressure on the wide wound. He stumbles back, almost getting stabbed by one of the plants before he moves away as fast as possible. Finding a safe spot for a moment, he tries to settle and steady himself for the first time... >Arthur: Can you decode this?     Any sustained geometry alteration has to obey certain rules. Altering geometry changes rules, but they can't be random and arbitrary, otherwise atoms would start getting split in half and there would be a nuclear risk. He needs to find the rules, and he needs to find them *before* the toxic pollen kills him with that concerning poison meter over his head. And he can't use his magic to fix it...     But using his mage-brain to solve geometries from the other side? That's viable. Mounting his broom, he thinks about this situation. Most of the direst hazards are on the floor. Most of the ones that reach up this far are toxic or can be cut through. And he knows how to think through complex geometries... More importantly, he remembers the map. The Mary Seacole Memorial was actually really close to the bridge, but suddenly there's hospital behind it from their perspective, right? So the arrangement must be rotating the hospital in circles around it. Like a spiral, or a tropical storm... >Arthur: The "winds" are moving circularly. Use the Mary Seacole Memorial as the eye of the storm, map its rotations, and figure how to exit onto Westminster bridge.     "Alright, I think I got the PLAN." Arthur calls to the others. "I'mma lay some TRAILS FOR CALCULATION, and then I'mma lay some TRAILS FOR EXIT. Holla at'cha boy if you get some schemes and info while I'm doing this." And he takes off, rocket-blasting at a hover that keeps him above the shadows and charges through flora, focusing on taking in the geometric structure of the buildings, and trying to map out the presumed spiral of the geometric structures, and find the right angle to exit, as if from orbit, or from a dangerous storm at sea.
Miyamomo	Xion mentions Miyamomo launching people over the river. She doesn't get time to respond as she steps out, but her brow furrows. She's considering it.     Into the tunnels, where she oohs and ahhs at the outsider art. "Such interesting words they use!" She says, like a philistine. The lights totally escape her notice. Yeah, the modern world is constantly lit up, what about it?     The monsters though, they get her special attention. The hard-shelled ones just get smashed. As hard as they are, they're no match for Miyamomo's strikes. Fists and heels get dropped on them like a meteorite descending to earth, something she now has experience with.     The recurring shadow monster is a toughy though. Immediately, she intuits it is shadow, so maybe putting out the lights would banish it. But that would leave them all in the dark, and potentially empower it. So she settles for pummelling it whenever it manifests, eventually getting such a knack for it that she starts doing the ambushing the moment it appears.     Within the impossible space, she looks through the miscellaneous junk with half-hearted interest. "Ah, so we're in a nest of some kind. Well, if there's one thing I know about creatures that make nests..." She picks up a crutch and begins smacking it against the handlebars of the train, each one producing a sharp ringing sound. Again and again, at irregular intervals.     Creatures that make nests are territorial after all.
Persephone Kore	Phony, being at the rear of the group, manages to avoid getting stuck in with too many monsters. The obvious gribblies can be taken care of by her teammates (while she watches with sparkly appreciation and occasional claps of delight), and the cognitohazardous glassy-wildlife only draws a slight displeased frown to her face.      It's the near-invisible grabber-snakes that end up getting her. One lunges and grabs her arm as she floats along, prompting a belated and insufficiently alarmed reaction. "Hey. That's rude of you, you know. Please let go." She tugs gently to free her arm. It strains at every sinew before releasing her and snapping back like a rubber band. She rubs her wrist defensively, then floats just a little more briskly to catch back up with her friends.      "Hey, that's really smart!" she says to Kale, even though he explained nothing out loud. "You're always thinking of neat uses for 'wind magic', aren't you? Haha, just like when we had our fight. Even if you aren't where you want to be yet, you're still a lot more clever than me."      That may not be saying much.      The blade flora gets her a couple of times, prompting an "ow!! hey, stop it!" and a slightly wider berth of caution, but mainly she relies on passively melting their will to attack her before she even gets close. The pollen, on the other hand, neatly breaks and flows around her without ever coming into contact; she's evidently decided that it's not allowed to touch me!      "Most things that look like humans used to be human," Persephone answers Cantio thoughtfully. "Like me! So I think they probably are. It's sad, isn't it? I hope they're in an okay place."      Go, Kale, and Arthur are all mapping routes through the hospital. Persephone helps out in her own way: with a moment to wish for it, a terraforming aura spreads out from her, turning a clean circle of ground into a wildflower-filled and unobstructed meadow. As she walks where the others direct, things at the leading edge of that 'bubble' are overwritten by her everted mindscape, warped to conform to the vision of a meadow with a clear blue sky. The Antegent can't mess with thresholds and walls if there aren't any!
Lilian Rook	A conversation about the Count to Ten plays out over the radio, along with London's Unusual Prevalence of spacetime-interacting Antegent and anomalies, vastly higher in frequency than anywhere else on Earth. Thankfully, the resurrecting shadow-cloaked miniboss gets confused and finally 'fucks off' as Lilian puts it. Out of the presence of so many others, she feels better about holding Tamamo close most of the way, thinning out chaff with electromag weaponry and burning down the QTE enemies with magic from that techy wand. "I think you have the right idea, at least." she says. "People still get that wrong. Assigning that kind of agency."     Lilian stands at the pileup of trains at the edge of the abyss. "Easier said than done." She picks up a discarded wallet, and hurls it into the blackness, where it just keeps going, and going, and going, and disappears from sight. "If only we'd reversed the groups." She glances down at the pile of discarded affects. "God. It's like it puked up the bones. Like an owl."     Tamamo's ability for recognizing capital Barriers, Boundaries, Spaces, and just seeing specifically over distance, sends her senses rushing through the abyss for what feels like far too long, and eventually finds a tiny point of light where the tunnel resumes. It is at once 'very far away' and 'right here', like a centimeter-wide sliver of track was bisected an ocean of empty space --or perhaps a river-- the two halves pushed aside by some tunneling thing displacing them. Missing that exit point in the vast dark might mean drifting forever.
Lilian Rook	A conversation about the Count to Ten plays out over the radio, along with London's Unusual Prevalence of spacetime-interacting Antegent and anomalies, vastly higher in frequency than anywhere else on Earth. Thankfully, the resurrecting shadow-cloaked miniboss gets confused and finally 'fucks off' as Lilian puts it. Out of the presence of so many others, she feels better about holding Tamamo close most of the way, thinning out chaff with electromag weaponry and burning down the QTE enemies with magic from that techy wand. "I think you have the right idea, at least." she says. "People still get that wrong. Assigning that kind of agency."     Lilian stands at the pileup of trains at the edge of the abyss. "Easier said than done." She picks up a discarded wallet, and hurls it into the blackness, where it just keeps going, and going, and going, and disappears from sight. "If only we'd reversed the groups." She glances down at the pile of discarded affects. "God. It's like it puked up the bones. Like an owl."     Tamamo's ability for recognizing capital Barriers, Boundaries, Spaces, and just seeing specifically over distance, sends her senses rushing through the abyss for what feels like far too long, and eventually finds a tiny point of light where the tunnel resumes. It is at once 'very far away' and 'right here', like a centimeter-wide sliver of track was bisected an ocean of empty space --or perhaps a river-- the two halves pushed aside by some tunneling thing displacing them. Missing that exit point in the vast dark might mean drifting forever.     Miyamomo slamming on the trains over and over, almost predictably, pisses off something. The door caves in as if blown in by a hurricane wind. Gravity disappears, spends bends, and Miyamomo is pulled in with immense strength. The unpowered wheels screech, and the car begins sliding forward, quickly accelerating straignt into the abyss.     The inner car is filled with shadows, identical to the hospital, seated and standing densely. Some try to 'exit at station', which means they'll walk right through her and do that horrible thing they do.
Staren	OUTSIDE:     "I don't remember it being this bad... this opressive..." It's a good thing we have Phony here... Perhaps the armor helps Staren move, too; curious, she checks whether her robots seem to be at all inhibited by that effect.     The Delilah's got a plasma cannon on each arm, firing comet-shaped firey projectiles that 'splash' over targets, seeping into cracks and sometimes setting on fire. Most of the robots are carrying a mix of apparently-conventional assault rifles and submachineguns, but with some kind of incredibly high-speed jet-propelled penetrating round. Similarly up-ammo'd anti-tank rifles and oneshot rocket launchers are also available JUST IN CASE, but these foes seem to mostly be the kind you can shoot, at least.     After the first time Staren gets basilisk hacked and somehow saved, she switches away from visual sensors until she gets to the hospital. It's fine, she's got LIDAR on this thing, which is maybe for the best. THE HOSPITAL OF AWFULNESS - ROOF     Just as Staren thinks that bit about how she can smash through the walls to join the others unless space fuckery, she finds herself in the middle of space fuckery, taking awfully long to cross this rooftop only to find the edge of this building seems to press right up against another with its own endless rooftop, and that's not what the map data said at all... At least there are probably fewer shadows up here. She intends to avoid them. Hopefully that pollen can't make it through the armor's sealing, but if it's intangible does it matter?     Okay. After Staren's seen her surroundings reposition a few times, she tries retracing her steps to see if, regardless of how things LOOK, she still ends up in the same place based on how she MOVES. If so maybe she can start puzzling out some of how this place is put together. Otherwise it's time to smash a wall and see what happens. HOSPITAL - OUTSIDE     The two constructs carrying kanobos, as well as the missile reloads for Staren's power armor, try to Go Around and are probably never seen again. HOSPITAL - INSIDE     If Staren is able to, somehow, keep contact with the drones, she directs them mostly to follow the others and attack anything that attacks them or that they attack. Otherwise they do pretty much the same on automatic but probably tend to get lost more without Staren overseeing them.
Xion	'Key and hit stuff' is neither of what Xion does, leaving the fairy circle of safety and entering the MIASMIC REALM OF BRITISH DOUBLE COLONIALSM - Now Combining Classic Flavor Colonizer and New Zero Calorie Spacetime Colonizer. "Right. Um. Tips. Don't touch anything." She looks at Cantio. "Think too hard about anything." She looks to Staren. "Or..." Persephone again. A shrug. "You'll probably be fine." And-- There's a distress, then, and a moment of frustration at the expansion of scope that things took on, that is quickly quelled as they are immediately set upon by roving packs of COGNITODOGS, who channel the power of shitty camera angles to colonize your life: with bullshit. Mashing through a grab-and-toss loose animation that keeps her feeling sorry for herself at a minimum, Xion doesn't really have to blaze a trail in any case. HOWEVER... Xion stands before Shrek's London Adventure, blade in hand. She looks down at the ball upon the keychain. It points towards Shrek's London Adventure. Directly into. A straight line. Inexorably. Yet she does not want to go. Something loud tells her to stay away. "Okay. We'll find a way around." SOON ENOUGH: With the power of God, Kamen Rider, and Mysterious Space Girlfriend, there really isn't that much to do! So Xion hits up God's portal, the act of stepping through space an odd comfort to catch up to the pollen-thick corridor. Again, she checks her dowsing-chain, and the ball leads her down past the Key Monument towards the Extremely Final Fantasy (There Is Always One Regulation Final Fantasy Reference) setup. Except... "All the flowers snappy-snappy. Um..."
Persephone Kore	In accordance with Xion's coordination, Phony starts heading towards the ugly heart of the flora: the hospital chapel with the smashed-in roof. Her terraforming aura can resculpt the terrain into something friendlier and leave a comfortable path in her wake, and her psychic calming can hopefully still their aggression, but she prefers to avoid defending herself unless really pressed and without backup.      That'd be taking chances to shine away from everyone else!
Cantio	'Don't touch anything.' 'Think too hard about anything.' "... I-I'll try." Crap. Now Cantio's starting to think, but she's not supposed to think! Maybe Persephone can help. 'Most things that look like humans used to be human,' 'Like me! So I think they probably are. It's sad, isn't it? I hope they're in an okay place.' "It's... It is sad, yeah. And considering where we are..." Were these people caught without anywhere to go? Any chance of escaping? Trapped, waiting for death whether through the Antegent or through the eventual failure of their life-saving equipment? Considering that some of this stuff is still on, it's probably the former more than the latter, but that's of little comfort to Cantio in her attempts to not think too hard about things. MEANWHILE Cantio's drone continues following Miyamomo dutifully, recording her exploits in train-bashing and shell-befuckening. It's getting good footage, too, circling around and even going for a few panoramic shots to really capture the scope of what's in that tunnel. But mostly train-bashing.
Lilian Rook	Kale, who has just learned some lessons about infinite loops very recently, has a perfectly solid idea. Very unfortunately, the wind doesn't seem to blow away that ghostly 'pollen' at all, as if it isn't even there (actually, it phases through the Delilah too; it really is 'energy spores'), but the reality of urban areas with high walls is that they deflect and channel wind. Much like Arthur's expectation, it flows, fills, and settles in spiral whorls and eddies that encircle every building but the children's hospital, which leads a twisty bendy path beyond the last of the discarded cards and toys and gowns all the way towards that statue. As if, for some incomprehensible reason, just the children where not only allowed to leave, but guided, so long as they went west.     Cantio's best examination of the machinery is merely that it was in-use, and then nobody stayed long enough to shut it down. The disaster must have been that sudden. The hospital generator is surely far more efficient than a modern, cheap diesel generator, and probably for good reason, but it'd be unusual if a huge metropolitan hospital didn't have one. The shadows don't appear to be in any state of emergency; it's like this scene were captured some minutes before 'impact' and is scorched into the hospital's memory, like blasted outlines of civilian families on a house-side from a Cold War era nuclear alarmist film.     Persephone's terraforming encounters --strangely-- firm, if insufficient, resistance. It's like ambient pressure, squashing down the expansion of her field. Blowing up a bomb underwater. It isn't like the world telling her 'no, that's not possible', but like something else is telling her 'no, I want it this way'. It works either way, but it's surprisingly tiring to deal with.     Xion's dowsing and Arthur's kids menu maze geometry bear results at the same time. Threading the absurd spiral fish-eye warp gets Arthur most of the way to the statue, and clearly tells him what the last intuitive leg looks like, able to follow Kale's winds at first, then extend beyond where they fall off based on that pattern, but the further he goes, the faster all of his doomstack meters build up.     Xion's compass needle points her towards that collapsed chapel, not far away from the children's hospital. It's thankfully devoid of monsters, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why: The entire upper floor looks like it was hit by a meteor, and the ground floor is dominated by the smallest rivet she's seen so far, unmistakable by its exterior patterns of impossibly interlocking pentagons, and its interior of weird, luminous fibres and membranes, if not for the characteristic double helix and stormy red orb, because the upper third has been broken off. By the state of the room, it looks as if it was intentionally targeted by --maybe an airstrike? It's less than a third of the size of the Oda Rivet, only a storey and a half with its point buried, but that indicates there was probably more than one --probably a lot-- sprayed around the downtown area, close to ground zero.
Miyamomo	Whoops that was a mistake. Probably.     "Hahah, good heavens!" she shouts as she is sucked away into a train car that rolls out. A train car full of shadows that all try to pass through her, a pain she knows all too well.     "Hahaha~ You must think I'm locked in here with you~ I'm afraid the opposite is true." She can't touch them, so she lashes out with open palm strikes that blast devastating strikes of air, bludgeoning her foes without even touching them. Each one is dense with harming intent. 'Don't touch me.' 'Don't come near me.' 'The pain I inflict on you is far worse than any pain you could inflict on me.'     It is with this that she makes her way through the cart, looking for who, or what, is in charge here.
Ishirou	I4's ability to see what's in there is being restricted because of bullshit spatial anomalies...which oddly shouldn't have this effect?  One set of space is the same as another, and he should be able to see in darkness.  This all makes things weirder.   This all goes especially super south, as Miyamomo is dragged into a car that is full of shadows, and...that's just really super bad.  I4 would likely be completely blind in there..!   Instead, he fires a grappling hook shot into a nearby wall and fires another one towards the inside of the train itself.  "Ms. Miyamomo, use this if you need to get yourself out!" hopefully this will hold...or he won't run out of line before she's done?  He really hopes that he doesn't run out of line.
Tamamo	When the trains begin sliding, Tamamo moves back away from them, or rather, she attempts to move back away, but gravity suddenly betrays her. Though not correctly positioned to be on a sliding course of the mouth of some space-bending creature, having any sort of change in one's expected gravity tends to be proportionately disorienting.     "Oh, no, Miyamomo-san! Are you alright? Lilian, is she alright? Lilian, are you alright?" After a small, panic-produced delay, Tamamo reaches into her fancy formalwear to retrieve some equally archaic-looking talismans, and lets their target-homing properties render the shifts in gravity irrelevant. Where they stick onto the walls produces a local space separated from a variety of outside influences, and around which the bendiness of space can just keep bending, leaving her little prism alone.     She realizes, after a moment, that in her confused state, she has reoriented her 'down' to be in the direction of the station wall, and is standing on it. This is actually fine, though her panic only subsides when she sees that Ishirou is moving to give Miyamomo a line back, and remembers that he has a flight pack, and that Lilian can do the same.     With that somewhat calmed, Tamamo leans down to examine the lit-up electric lights on the wall (presently by her feet), and determine whether these, too, are connected 'somewhere of relevance.' Something must be powering them. In fact, how can they operate at all, when they enter a terminating space? Can she possibly tug this connection together, using its existing power to bridge the gap produced? If it's a matter of 'bringing things together,' tugging on lines that already exist, that aspect is more within her capabilities.
Kale Hearthward	> "Hey, that's really smart!" There's a moment as the thoughts bounce through Kale's brain - he's good at it, but he's far from a master at it, and he doesn't have insights like this as often as he'd like, and I4's still better at figuring stuff out than he is- "Thank you," he settles on. "I'm pretty good at it, yeah." The spores turn out to be some sort of ghost spores and can't be blown around by his winds, which is unfortunate - but at least he has a pretty good weedwhacker, still. He'll just have to be a bit more careful, and stick with the group to rely on their healing and whatever solutions they can bring to bear.
Lilian Rook	Lilian keys into Ishirou's quick thinking almost immediately. The train is launched into the abyss, accelerating weightlessly through space. His grapnel is timely, but its speed decreases over distance, and won't catch it. Lilian disappears and the grapnel line suddenly extends taut. Lilian is on the side of the train car, hooks sunk into it as if through a frame skip, the invisible pull straining on Ishirou's flight suit anchors. "I'm fine!" and "Good thinking!" she calls back, then double boot kicks in one of the windows and dives in.     Things go from bad to worse when it turns out Miyamomo's air blasts don't even seem to interact with the shadows, but they do warp the train sides and obliterate all of the clutter and upholstering, leaving her narrow spaces to maneuver through, able to powerslide under floating seated figures or narrowly vault-twist over their heads without poles in the way. Lilian is working her way through the opposite end, until they meet in the middle car.     It's something like a hive, or nest, or heart, or cyst, or pearl, of solid blackness, strangely hazy and soft, suspended in a three-dimensional web of gauzy gossamer shadow-strands. It's very similar to something that has been seen before here, but that's beside the point for now. A joint attack is enough, where Night Mist is somehow able to sever it from its intangible tethers, and Miyamomo is able to smash the car from the inside and launch it straight out into the void, wherein the 'gravity' on the train rapidly fades and disappears, allowing Ishirou to reel it back in.     As far as Tamamo can see, the lights are powered not because anything is feeding them, but because the electricity 'isn't going anywhere'. In a sense, it's as if 'the trains are fated to run, so they will'. This sliver of time will probably repeat forever, if allowed to, even the voltage in the wires never escaping this bounded space, severed from the past and future, circulating in an endless loop.     This actually makes it uniquely suited to careful stitching and threading, with her demi-divine 'sight' and her specific affinity for her own fields of warped and recursive space. Sewing back together a tear this egregious is far too much for one person in one day, but with her homing talismans, and her fix on 'the other side', she is able to join the two in a region of defined space that is just big enough that the floating train crunches from both ends and forms a solid bridge above the abyss.     Just beyond it, the stairs lead back up to Westminster Bridge.
Go Shijima	There's a rivet nearby. It's adversely affecting a few people here, and it needs to be removed without magic. Arthur's made it clear that it took a lot of force to be rid of one. If Mach doesn't have it, then Phony absolutely will. But there's no sense in sitting around, spinning his wheels.      Phony's terraforming makes it easier to navigate. Less risky. Go follows the path she's left behind, all the way to the chapel. He's carried there on those wheels at his ankles, power-skating his way along the path and into the chapel.      He drifts, making a stop a yard or so from Phony and Xion, jump jack springing him into the air at a sideways angle. Turning midair, he punches three keys on his belt and pulls the trigger on the Zenrin Shooter. 364//DNG      This payload has a much lower rate of fire, more recoil. Bullets, four in number, fly from the end of the pistol and fall flat to the ground as if immensely heavy. In seconds, they grow until each is the size of Go's motorcycle. Each has a cartoonish shark face with imposing, angry eyes and very sharp teeth--the four of them begin attempting to tear the rivet apart as Go's feet impact the nearest wall.      Mashing the Mach Driver's button, Go resets the pistol back to its default setting and races across the walls, feathering the trigger. As the bullets try to tear the rivet apart, Go constantly blasts with burning hot, blue lasers.
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: Push it to the limit     Arthur goes as far as he can in his orbit-break theory, but the accretion disk of toxic shit pushes his doom meters into maximum and he has to break back, coughing lungfuls of toxin hard. He has to retreat, recover from the toxins as best he can in a space that isn't full of spores, and then rejoin the group. Thank goodness for Persephone's terraforming, which lets him skid to a stop and catch his breath, then continue with the others. >Arthur: Hit that fucking chapel     Not a good idea to split up further. He's gotta stick with the group, and at the moment, the group is being led by Xion and following the path Persephone is carving. He's been sipping on healing potions alchemized from gamer drinks to bring his health up to its rather damaged maximum by the time they reach the door, and he has his broom ready in a defensive stance as he heads inside, part of the combat vanguard. Examining the rivet, he shuts down all of his magic as hard as he can, and approaches, trying to broom-hover to stand atop the rivet. As Go tries to rip it apart, Arthur uses it as a perspective position. Surveying from here, does it appear to be the source of the spatial warp? Can he measure the space distortions in some way that leads to this, or is there something else to worry about? If it breaks, launching from here will be the fastest way to head towards that bridge, though.
Ishirou	Ishirou's grapple into the nearby wall is good, that will help anchor him, even with his flight.  You never know with these space distortions if gravity will act super weird, normal, or weightless.  It's not at all like on TV or in video games.   However, the one he fired into the void doesn't seem like it's going to hit anything.  Oh no, was he too late?  Did he miscalculate the speed needed..?  No the space was growing between the two of them, he realizes a touch too late.   With Lilian's quick move and compliment, Ishirou smiles a bit, and once the line is connected, he tries to pull it back.  It's impossible at first until weightlessness is set within that space and he's given the ability to draw it in.  He pulls back with the strength and speed he can muster given his limited space, spatial stuff, and lack of being strong.   Fortunately, mechanical arms make up for his noodle arms. "Tamamo?  You okay over there?"
Tamamo	Her work successfully done, and some sort of strange enemy she doesn't recognize at all defeated, and no one fallen into an endless abyss, and a bridge created, to pass from one of the tunnel to another, Tamamo jumps into a half-flip that reorients her away from the wall and into normal gravity. Prepared for it, this time, she lands neatly on top of the train, and gestures for Ishirou to follow. "Yes, of course. It was a bit confusing, but all is well, now. At least, I should hope so."     She runs along the surviving car roofs in what she's at least reasonably certain is a westward direction. "Is everyone quite alright? Those creatures did appear quite strange, more as curses than as creatures at all, I would say. Not one of them touched either of you, did they?"     Finally reaching the western side of the river, they can make their way to... "Oh, we were to travel underground, again, to find a secluded reliquiary, was this not so?" That, at least, is rather exciting. If it's simply a search for some buried treasure, it won't necessarily be filled with monsters. These monsters only care about killing people, not treasures, after all. She'll hold onto that hope, for now.
Xion	Since she's asking Persephone to join and help her out, Xion speaks as she moves, gingerly stepping on the field-disarmed carpet of flowers with a testing toe before placing more weight between becalmed stems and simple, soft grasses that do not memetically menace her. She doesn't move her mouth when she speaks, because she's holding her breath, but she has textboxes beyond animatory needs. "This is actually pretty hard for me. This world isn't like mine at all. Even if I have it bad, where I'm from the world is pretty giving. Not great, but you don't really get heroes of the heart from places where nothing bad happens, do you?" Xion smiles gently, still not lipflapping. It's because of the pollen, and she's holding her breath, but... "I bet you'd know, but I would be curious if you'd say it." Xion suggests, as she finishes her travel to the head-snapped rivet. A surgical strike... "This part, here..." She gestures with the fingers of a black-gloved hand up to the smashed top. "Isn't required for the pin to function. It's like a pin-head, some function other than penetration. So this..." Her hand falls to indicate the length. "... bone, here, the lattice, is the actual bare metal of the pin. So..." Moving to the base, she crouches at the place where it meets the ground. "Can you... Lift it up? Since this one can't call, we can see why it stuck here. Was it guided? Let's ask."
Cantio	"... Oh geez. These really were running since whatever did this happened." Cantio comments aloud as she finishes her inspection of the machines, recalling the patterned movements of those shadows and shivering lightly at the implications that become even more obvious. "Looks like whatever hit this place just... Happened before anyone knew it. I guess that's a little better, then, if they didn't know that..." Her discomfort is apparent enough, but at least she doesn't have to be near the shadows for too long as she follows Persephone's path and Xion's guidance towards the actual objective of today's outing with the group: The rivet in the chapel! Cantio's efforts have largely been focused on helping the group brute force through the ghost pollen and anything actually trying to attack them, but when she sees the strangely safe zone, she still doesn't look like she's feeling any better about the whole situation. "They... Really dropped these like it was part of a warzone or something." She comments with another uncomfortable noise, setting her attache case down closer to the entrance and popping it open. She slips in some earbuds and lets her drones out to let them stay on standby as pseudo-turrets just in case anything starts coming into the chapel, then follows Go's lead in tying to loosen the rivet. Rather than using magic to blast it from afar, however, she relies on the sword itself and her own strength: By getting up close enough to wedge her sword into the ground just next to where Xion indicates. "Let's see if this can get deep enough..." The blade starts to crumble at the sides as its pieces slip further into the ground, not quite like sand but closer to little splinters seeking out spaces that they can fit into between the ground and the buried part of the rivet. The pieces should be able to sink deep enough and fit between all those cracks that they end up hooking underneath the rivet and reattaching to each other in this new formation like some kind of messed up fishing hook to aid in pulling the entire thing out by pulling on the sword. It does still involve Cantio getting close to the rivet, though, and relying more on her own strength and her sword(?)'s durability to actually withstand trying to drag the thing out.
Persephone Kore	Don't worry, Cantio!! Phony's here to help. Just take deep breaths, shut your eyes, and focus on that magnetic pull you feel on your skin. It's so easy to fall into, isn't it? Like 'down' is towards me in your mind's eye, and I'm a bottomless pit you could flutter down into forever.      Haha, but don't actually!! Just a little.      Phony's journey towards the chapel is largely peaceful, as is Xion's accompanying her. She grimaces slightly as she pushes through the strange resistance that the Antegent terrain has to being terraformed, but settles into the groove of it after a moment, and carries on with only a strained undertone to her smile.      The novel means of communication elicits a marveling stare from her. "Wow!! Haha, you really are special, Xion. Not that I ever expected one of Lilian's friends not to be! But there's a lot more to you than hitting things with a key, isn't there?"      "It is awful here. It's so awful I'm having trouble taking it in. But then, maybe it's not good to take it in? Should I absorb it more and be sadder, because it's what something this bad deserves? Or should I try my best to be strong and positive, and buoy up everyone else? I think that's what Lilian's doing, and it's her world. So I'm trying to do the same."     A pause for a little thoughtful frown. "Nothing bad ever happened where I'm from. But I'm really not a hero, haha, so I guess you're right! Not like you are. That's why I like watching you all show off, you know? I'm special too, but not in that way."      On arrival, she walks close to the rivet with a kind of reverence, lays a hand on its surface, and shuts her eyes for The Question: Tell me your story, nail, because I really want to know. Why are you the way that you are?      Once that's concluded, she steps back and applauds a little for Cantio. "Hey, that's really smart! See, Xion? She's got it!!"      (But in case she doesn't, the TK assist is on deck.)
Lilian Rook	From Arthur's position, it seems abundantly clear that, while the warp doesn't seem to originate from the broken Rivet itself, the way it's twisted up is like someone drove a screw through a loose cloth and turned it halfway in; that certainly corresponds to where he's standing. It isn't the origin point, but it is the anchor. The nail holding down the banner to keep it secure in the wind.     Cantio digging around the bottom isn't quite as hard as it seems it would be; a great deal of it is still supported by the weathered chapel floor, which is a lot softer than concrete and bedrock, and removing some of that causes the spike's weight to list to the side and halfway pull itself free, churning up the ground. Even just that seems to lessen some of the pressure against Persephone's terraforming, and Arthur's spatial navigation. Lifting it free of the ground even more so.     Go's hotwheels sharks can't make a dent in that exterior, even much thinner as it is compared to the one that Strawberry cut into, but with the top already blown off, the softly glowing insides are exposed, and easily torn through in a frenzy. It's hard to say whether it's more like 'smashing electronics' or like 'killing an animal', but the way thick, translucent, iridescent fluid runs from every bite, the way its glow dies as its fibres and membranes tear and burn, feels like a death of one sort or another. Held up where it can't draw stability and torn to bits, soon enough, all that resistive pressure disappears completely. The nailed cloth is slid free.     Which means it is now entirely possible to follow Kale's airflow path all the way out to the statue and the bridge. Arthur's spacemap is still pretty long, but vastly less tangled now, and with Persephone now able to smoothly clear the area as they go, the journey goes from 'implausibly survivable' to 'a health tax'.     The two parties end up meeting on the street at Westminster Bridge. Just in time for a brief street battle with more roving low-level Antegent.
Lilian Rook	The Thames was never a pretty river. Not since the Industrial Revolution anyways. But now it is a deep and wide river of blue-black ink. An ocean trench after all the water above it dried up. Looking at it from above, it's equally easy to imagine that a bottomless chasm opened up in its middle, or that some indescribably enormous 'thing' might be lying at its bottom, sleeping, casting its subsurface shadow simply by Being.     The bridge itself, eerily, is completely free of any obstacle more dire than the massive gridlock of scattered cars that had been abandoned on it. Not even the most minor little monster haunts it. Even those that wander onto the street, in full view, will not pursue the group over those waters. They'll mill agitatedly about the edges, but their bloodlust, normally almost suicidally insatiable, is suppressed by something else.     It's hard to not get the sense that it might be 'respect for the borders of an apex predator's territory'. The river is not home to little Antegent.     Phony's impression of the wounded Rivet, that broken bone, is of a splinter of something far greater. A sliver of debris flaked from the surface of a divine work, cast adrift, crashing to earth, and as cuttings sometimes do, regrowing its blooming head by drawing nourishment from the rich ambient energy that once existed here. Not a long time ago. Not relatively. Almost within Persephone's lifetime. It has no purpose or destiny of its own; it is an incidental, lost piece of 'home', but its mere presence, its weight, its binding energy, holds down that which Earth would reject. It broke off through that scar in the sky, and with its countless unfortunate siblings, blanketed this city like seeds shaken from a tree. Until the humans came and plucked the nails out one by one. Cut the blooms and burnt the roots. Most of them. Humanity never got their home back, but the garden of 'home' never grew here either.
Miyamomo	"Ah Lilian, you're here!" Miyamomo shouts. After the air merely passed through the things, she just clenched her teeth and hit them normally with fast strikes designed to minimize contact time. Having waded her way to the middle with this method, she lets the swordswoman sever the tethers binding the orb before unleashing a barrage of blows upon it, finishing with an uppercut to splatter it against the roof.     The train car is recalled, and Miyamomo kicks down a door to emerge, smiling at Tamamo and Ishirou. "Thank you for the assistance~" Up the stairs and on to the street, where she eagerly begins viciously pummelling the low-level Antegent.
Lilian Rook	"You're . . . right, yes." Lilian says to Tamamo as they resurface. "But the first Rivet we found --functional, in London-- was right in the middle of what would otherwise be a 'treasure' trove. Like it was aimed. Or called. Or summoned." To Miyamomo and Ishirou, "That was something like a 'Malus' pattern Antegent. We've seen a few of them in operations a while ago. Sessile configurations that aggregate pieces of humans in some way; blood, bones, breath, vital energy, usually. A kind of hive of one. But that was as if it had stolen people's shadows, right?"
Ishirou	"That definitely seemed like shadows...but it was hard to get anything to scan in that space," Ishirou considers.  "I wonder if that and the reason people's shades were used are connected." He stares into the space a bit more.   "Hey Tamamo, I have an idea...if you're willing to help me?" he asks, before turning his hands towards the void, but not going in.  He starts firing flares into the darkness.  He's trying to see if he can illuminate anything in there, trying to see if he can find a shape to the space.   He's trying to apply reason to this.  "Hey you, alien monster thing.  Come out and talk to me, or I'm going to make your home full of light.  You probably don't like that right?"
Cantio	Deep breaths. Eyes shut. Focus. Just focus on what Phony is saying and nothing else. Her hands are still moving, but Cantio's mind is elsewhere. It's the easiest way to shut out those awful thoughts, replacing it with something far more comforting. It certainly helps her focus on anything but bad thoughts, instead just letting herself relax despite putting so much physical effort into getting that thing out. And eventually, it does! Cantio nearly falls on her face when it does, too, but she catches herself at the last moment and hunches over to catch her breath. "Hah! Knew that function would be useful for something." She gloats briefly to herself, then clears her throat while getting back into moving with the group again. Heading towards the bridge next, she raises a hand in greeting as she starts seeing everyone from the tunnel team. "Oh, hey! We got what we were looking for back in the hospital, I think." She explains briefly, trying not to dwell too much on the grisly details of what everything around it looked like.
Tamamo	Tamamo takes Miyamomo's claims of being uninjured at face value. Since those things struck without entry or exit wounds, she wouldn't be able to tell, anyway. She keeps fussing over Lilian a bit longer, but is finally satisfied that her hands feel fine.     "A shadow is an impression, like the memory of a thing, defined by what it touched, or its absence. Or else, perhaps, it considered 'shadows' in an entirely different sense. I did not view them from very close, and so, I may have missed some more obvious connection, however," she tilts her head, and thinks a moment, "given the number of Antegent that operate directly upon knowledge and memory, it happened to come to mind."     When Ishirou starts firing flares, Tamamo's eyes widen, and she covers her lower face with a fan that surely wasn't there a moment ago. "My! Ishirou, I shall admit, I had not thought you such a brave one. Did you not say you were no warrior, but one who did not enjoy fighting?"
Xion	Xion seems genuinely surprised, the 'wait what' of confusion that becomes sickness as she finds an odd rejection in Cantio leaping in. "O-oh, yeah. Alright." Xion sits back, casually, on the becalmed field of flowers and the broken church ground, and between Cantio - and Persephone hoverhanding one hand behind Cantio's back and the other hand on the 'seat of the bicycle' - the rivet lifts out of the ground. It's like taking a breath of air, for Xion, but sat down on the softened grass and carpet of flowers, she goes from textboxing to simply speaking with her mouth, deeming the air 'better' with the rivet's removal. "Hold on." Shimmying down the hole the Rivet left like a particularly black coated liquid, Xion makes a few considering noises, and then pops her head out of the hole. "Nope. There's no ley-line or anything here. I expected something like that, but--" Before leaving, Xion pats her hand on the Uncapped Rivet. Instead of it screamingly consuming her hand in a frenzy of Taking, the whole thing disappears like the maps earlier, this time in fat, head-and-fist-sized irregular voxels and squares, the contours pulling away as malformed and shaved cubes before tumbling into smoke and air. "I have a theory. From communicating enough with the Antegent. I think. . . That the 'Human Origin', the shape everything is in, is 'disgusting and wrong' to them, wrong in a hateful way, wrong like... Finding ants in the pantry, but the ants are made out of plates of teeth and bone, and things that you understand." Considering, anxious in the way of a conspiracy theorist with something radioactively true, and the fumbling words to try and express it out, to think it out, to bridge the tingling of the hands into a narrative. "I remember it, when we came here with the prince of Garlemald. Angel-rays of wet marrow pulling themselves free of a person, seperating out. Repurposed, or a piece of a person gaining a shape of its own and a life, or changing alliegance within the body and turning coat with a lethal movement." Blink, and they're there. The river Thames, and the barrier. "I think the Antegent are like if 'not Human' applied a whole logic tree down. Humans see on the spectrum of light, but the Antegent only meet at the edges. Every portion of the way they're shaped, they move, it's like... an echo." "They leave negative space behind, because they are. And they're pinning the photopaper to the world, like a blanket, or like... grass rolled out across a new dirt lot lawn to turn it into a suburb. It's still just a dirt lot with tacky walls and stamped cielings, but to have it, you need the dirt, the foundation, and the grass rooted on top. Then you can have a house. I..." Xion raises a hand to hold across her forehead, palm over eye, and winces. "Does that... make sense? I'm having a hard time, but it all..." Xion looks out over the river, one-eyed, and makes a face. "... has to be said, doesn't it?"
Lilian Rook	The journey across the bridge is suspensful, tense, utterly leaden with the storm-scent of oncoming danger, but so anticlimactically uneventful that the lack of anything happening is, in of itself, unsettling. It shouldn't have been that easy. It feels like getting an invite to an abandoned manor on a hill and finding the front door is unlocked.     And on the other side is the empty space where Big Ben, the clocktower that was the insufferable pride of London, once stood, and then ceased to be. Though Buckingham and the Abbey loom tall and shadowy in all of their baroquely jagged architectural glory to the west, they feel, at the moment, functionally and narratively insignificant in some way, compared to what used to be the New Palace Yard and the Houses of Parliament.     If any of those things remain, if there are any broken pieces to be sentimentally scavenged from the dust, they're deep underground. The entire district has been gouged through and swallowed up by the earth, its frayed urban edges dragged through the sides of the hole like clothing through a bullet wound. The ground is frozen in permanent ripples from the residual shock of an unfathomably heavy kinetic impact, nearby streets and buildings bent inwards and disintegrating into its crater like drooping leaves. The pit in the middle of it all is ten times bigger than it'd need to be to swallow just that clocktower, and its sides are glassed black from heat. It looks like it might go down forever. The only sounds that come up from it are those of dripping water, and a dull, slow pulse.     There are two things immediately and importantly visible. One is that, far beneath the exposed veins of sewer and subway and basement, the walls are covered in exposed meshes of rooms and tunnels and mazes of corridors that aren't on any map, like staring at the inside of a broken bone. Those with the magical and geometric aptitude can feel the way that countless leylines have run together and crossed here for centuries untold; those glittering catacombs are still a bonfire of magical readings even now. The destruction within the crater itself is so total that it's difficult to see beyond, but ragged hints of deep, subterranean libraries, amphitheatres, workshops, medical wards, laboratories, vaults, and endless offices, suggest that a thousand people could have comfortably been working every day here, far out of the public eye. God only knows what the clock and palace and treasury were really like, back then. If this were aimed as a decapitation strike --or something else-- at the largest 'amount of magic' in the country, something succeeded.     The other is that the watery pitch blackness is filled with an entire spiral galaxy of little red lights. Scarlets and crimsons, fuchsias and roses, and strange not-quite colours, like the eyes being teased edges of infrared, glittering in three-dimensional space in a vast, helical whirl. They don't appear to be mere glowing motes, but actually fixed in space as physical objects, occupying a 'cloud' large enough to build apartments in. That glowing galaxy fills most of the empty dark, beneath the level of the secret offices, where something no doubt massive beyond belief is still resting.
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: Get out of there!     Passing through Kale's windy path, Arthur finally breaks free of the snarl, like a too-tight screw twisted up. He manages to make his way to the bridge, still coughing energized spores out of his lungs that were left over after Cantio's frequent and generous healing. Crossing such a tense and desolate structure is a bit of an odd experience for him. Looking around, he watching the horizon... Huh?     "Shit." He mutters. "Vampire rules? No. Ecosystem's all fuckin' stratified now. What the hell..." He tries to think on what he saw in there. "What the hell are these Rivets? Jesus, that thing was snarling space *so bad*. Gotta figure out what those fuckin' things are about." And he reaches the lip of the hole. "Hoooooly *fuck*." He whispers softly. "It's like some motherfucker carved a hole through eighty quests." He scratches his chin. "Guess we got a tall-ass data point to correlate with eleven fuckin' Titans. But *why?* What the hell do Antegent want with these leylines?"     He reaches a hand towards the terrifying galactic shape. He mutters, anxiously: "Outta those eleven, they all packed up and got gone, right?" He glances back, his smile a bit nervous.
Go Shijima	"Good work, Cantio," Go says, clapping her on the back fresh out of gently running down the wall.      With a rev of the Mach Driver, he's out and on the path to the bridge. Red-and-white lines zigzag through those Antegents that stand in their way before the bridge proper. In fleeting glances, Go can be seen stopping at one or another. His fighting style has changed, a little--or rather, there's more than just one. For those more physically oriented Antegents, he appears to remain in constant motion, not even stopping--accepting blows to strike back with greater force.      On the bridge itself... "They're not following us," he notes with concern. He assumes it's because of the giant shape in the water. "It does," he agrees with Xion. "Because 'the unknown' is terrifying, like you said. And... however unlikely it is, with them thinking of 'everything human' as disgusting..." Go's gaze turns towards the other side of the bridge. "I'd like to think if we really make an effort to understand them, we might avoid things like this. ...destruction like this."      Speaking of destruction--that enormous crater on the other side of a very tense walk through a gridlocked bridge--it's revealing a complex cross-section of what Go presumes to be Enlightened facilities. There's a clicking sound coming from Go--rather, from a lens integrated into the suit. Taking pictures of the crater, and the three-dimensional spiral galazy. It looks like something Satsuki would appreciate seeing.      "I don't know, Arthur," he says. "The thing in the water and the thing in the crater seem pretty... big to me. But even if it is one of the eleven, it'd take something specific to wake it up, right? As long as we're careful, we can definitely tackle it, and maybe even quickly, too!"
Lilian Rook	"They've all been verified as eliminated or suppressed." Lilian replies to Arthur, catching up shortly. "Eighty . . . quests? You'll have to explain that one." Her own reaction arriving at the miles deep hole simply obliterated right into the earth, so much unlike an explosion or even meteoric impact, is a strange, strangled gasp, and grabbing at her face between her eyes, massaging with her thumb and finger where those faded cuts are over the bridge of her nose and her cheekbone. "Fuck." Lilian hisses under her breath, and doesn't elaborate.     She sounds much more irritable now, waving vaguely at Arthur while still squeezing her eyes shut. "Doesn't that seem obvious? If merely using magic on a spent Rivet can recharge them for a short time, wouldn't plunging one right into where magic is most abundant give them all the power they need until they suck everything in the area dry? We've seen one that landed nowhere important, and it was pretty easily destroyed by the counterassault, right?"
Persephone Kore	Phony waves eagerly at the rest of the party as they join back up. On the other side of the bridge, even she lets out a soft sigh of relief, having evidently been unconsciously holding her breath.      "The Human Origin. I heard a little bit about that," she answers Xion conversationally. "It's the best shape for magic, right? These pylons, they run on magic. But the Antegent don't use it at all, do they? Why do you think that is?"      "'Everything that humans aren't'. I think you might be right: a perfect kind of reflection. Can they not use magic because it's a human thing, because they're opposed to that Origin? But then the pylons..."      She walks on for a little while in silence before resuming her quiet talking-out-loud. "Are they hungry for it? Magic. Things that live in the cold, hungry for warmth. And when the pylons find it, they can make these things. The Antegent, meant to kill humans. Anything fitting the Human Origin? Like an immune system. Flower when there's magic, and make the magic-doers stop."      "But that doesn't feel complete. It leaves so much out. Their stories aren't human stories, and I feel like I can barely read them. There's too much context gone."      Persephone's musings come to a stop, along with her journey, at the end of the pitch black hole. Hands resting on her hips, she leans forward to peer in. A second later her eyes widen and eyebrows lift.      "It is sort of beautiful, isn't it? The little red stars. I like them a lot, is that strange? ... Xion, something you want is in there, isn't it?"      Persephone steps out over the void with sharp footfalls, as if there were an invisible pane of glass right on top of it that she could walk on. At the exact center, she stares down as if her eyes could pierce the darkness, then looks back up with a smile.      "There really is no question where we have to go, is there?"
Xion	"They're not following us, because after the ring of skin -" Xion thumbs back at London Town, twisted with the Rivet-pinned alternate take on the materials of a human shape. "And the ring of blood..." She looks down, over the Thames, and then looks up. It's just a river, and they have to walk over it. Just another marking-point in the skeleton they enter the ribs of. It takes them as long as it takes them, as long to consider and talk and pick through the DRIVE: TYPE STOPPED cars. "We found the bare bones and we're looking for the spine, the crown vertebre, the highest pin before the nerves at the base of the skull. It all has to -be- there, doesn't it? The logic is the same, you just add a 'not' to the start of all of it. That's the reason for the disgust, the uncannyness of it all. It's not that you're totally -strange- to each other, because that would mean the shapes would be entirely different, and speak differently to different people. Something that was 'not -at all- human', entirely strange to you or I, might present as two different things to people of very different backgrounds as they try to process something utterly un-real to them that forces them to confront completely new experiences." The edge of the crater, the crackling honeycomb of magic and life-lived radiating out and being consumed. Persephone goes on ahead, but Xion pauses there. At her side, her hand tightens around the hilt of her twisted-vantablack keyblade, the cap and keychain charm orbs of sworling cardinal. At the edge, turned just a bit, she can kee it just to one eye that sees across the lip in its periphery, and ease into looking down at it all. Rather than hang, her keychain charm now points magnetically towards her own chest, struggling at her coat's sleeve span. "The first pin, besides the brain, or perhaps, if it is not-human, all backwards and inverted, the first pin cores the body, the very base of the spine, where power and life gathers. In humans, from the core springs magic, so if I were looking for co-in-ci-dences I'd say that's why the core here eats magic. But it can be so, so, so much more simple." Xion steps out onto Persephone's path, expects it to hold her, and begins an at-edge windmilling motion with her arms that catches her before she sighs, and unzips the outside of her coat with a cutscene flourish. (Underneath her coat, she is wearing a pastel green long sleeve under black t-shirt with magenta paintdrip band garage punk band LAUNDRY DAY). She spends a moment sliding her arms out of it and tying it about her waist, crossed over casually. "I just needed to hear smart people explain very complex things in steps with the honesty that comes out of exasperation to -really- get it." Xion takes a few steps back and then long-jumps across the chasm, her acrobatic hops landing her in a crouch... On Phony's shoulders, gently wirefu-ing herself and steadying with a few corrective touches and motions with her sword's weight. Then, with a soft 'Thanks!', she rises to her 'feet', cheerleader A-stancing on Persephone's Mysterious Space Girlfriend shoulders. "First pin --" Xion holds out her sympathetic keyblade over the pit of many red stars, and releases the sword with a gentle kip up. Collapsing in on itself, until keyblade-and-charm is just keychain and ball, and then the keychain itself unwinds into two halves of a black ring. Catching the whole of that, Xion holds up one finger, instructingly, to the group.
Xion	"-- create the universe." Aiming with single squinted eye and a tightly bitten tongue, Xion casually overhands her little glass marble of understanding down into the pit below. Anxiously crouching, Xion asides to Persephone. "If a tornado comes out of the pit, okay? Run. I'm not doing a tornado of universes tonight, we're just gonna bail. Grab the stupid ones, okay? Counting on you." She then rises, looking TOTALLY CONFIDENT in the PLAN that she has, because she is definitely two for three of something on plans tonight. Arthur, not a psychic maybe at all, gains a newtype gamer flash of perfect understanding on how COOL Xion is being. Xion is not normally COOL, but she is extra COOL, as her COOL ZONEOMETER reads 'WAY PAST FREEZING'.
Staren	Staren wasn't expecting to feel magic here. Although, now she's reminded how that city where the Immunes are tested felt.     She has drones fly over the crater. Walking to the edge would be reckless.     To Arthur, she comments: "With this much magical energy... I guess this world's mages must have had an extensive stronghold here. That... whatever this was cut right through."     "Everyone wants leylines. A nexus of free magic power... although, it doesn't look like the antegent have some sort of base here..."     She looks at Phony, although her puzzled expression can't be seen through the armor, Phony can feel it anyway. No question of where to go? "What do you mean?" Jumping in is so reckless she hasn't even considered it.     As Xion talks about her theory, Staren thinks back to the thing she fought in the library ghost's mind. But it's probably unrelated.     "So they're... anti-human? Feeding on magic and taking it to fill an endless negative potential, instead of having their own?"     Create the universe? Staren braces for SOMETHING to happen. She watches the marble drop through her drones...
Kale Hearthward	"I know how to run, thank you," says Kale, who has extraordinary hearing and also just assumes that that statement was directed at him. He perches at the edge of the crater, looking down. He'd lagged behind at some point in getting out of the hospital, and just now has caught up. "... I gotta capture whatever's gonna happen, though," he says, getting his phone out and starting to record with it, leaning in to get a better image, instead of doing anything smart like giving it some space or bracing for whatever's about to happen.
Cantio	BEFORE With the rivet ejected from the ground, Cantio finally gets to catch her breath, raising a quick thumbs up at Go before clapping his back in return. She looks over her  hands immediately afterwards to make sure there's no vague rivet juice anywhere on them even after using the sword as a makeshift jack, then stops in place when Xion says to wait. She looks at her legs to make sure there's no rivet juice on them, either. When Xion just up and touches it, though, Cantio goes wide-eyed and is about to reach for her when it just disappears instead of doing something vaguely bad. She lets out a relieved sigh when that's fine, and then she starts following along while considering the theory presented. "That would explain what we've seen so far. All those shadows, the parts... Even the thing you said about them separating out. What if they're-" She's suddenly at the river, and she freezes for a moment before continuing across the bridge while staying on guard and keeping her healing muscles ready. "Trying to achieve their own idea of perfection? They definitely haven't reached it yet, if they're still pulling parts out, but even if the human shape is disgusting to them..." Cantio glances back at the part of the bridge she's already passed. She looks uncomfortable at the distinct lack of stuff happening on the way over. "They must have to acknowledge it has some kind of value, if they're taking parts of it into their own forms." NOW Cantio hates that things are being calle rings of skin and blood. Even though she's not human, she still looks and feels human enough that the mental image of an actual massive ring of either of those things has her shivering uncomfortably. "We need the spine, but... Not the head itself? Er. Skull?" She asks while following the path, standing back to let Xion do her thing with the windmilling for some reason she can't quite follow. "You're doing a better job understanding it than me. I'm still having some trouble, but it's kind of clicking... Sort of." It's not a complete lie, but not the whole truth. At the chasm, Cantio grabs a drone, and she lets it handle the flying as it just sort of hovers her all the way over. She's still not transforming yet, as though she's trying to conserve her energy or cut down on flashy effects until it's actually necessary. "The stupid ones...? W-wait, we can grab actual universes out of this? Or..." She's sounding more confused, but already has her hands outstretched and ready over the pit. "How can we tell the difference?"
Tamamo	"Oh, the others are here. Should we have gone all together, do you think, Lilian? Oh, but perhaps we would have been more noticeable, then. I wonder whether they did manage to evade more dangerous attentions." She says that, but Tamamo still isn't being anything that can more than charitably be called 'stealthy,' herself, like one who forgot that stage whispers are still easily audible. She waves energetically to the other group, Arthur in the lead, before even noticing the great pit everyone else is focusing on.     "We did intend to go underground once more, however... yes, if they sought out leylines for their attacks, as do mages, it is expected that they should have been attacked, as well. Places of power do attract all sorts. They drain the power to allow for others to be brought forth, drawn from that 'other place,' is this the way of it?"     Tamamo takes a few moments, performing her readings, golden eyes catching light that isn't there. "The lines remain strong, even now, rather than drained. Did they not quite hit their targets, or were they sated, or were they destroyed, before their work could be completed? Was it only that the flow could not be halted? Ah, but that could be more easily determined by digging upstream."     She looks to the side. <J-IC-Scene> Tamamo says, "Have you already formulated this plan of creation, Xion?" <J-IC-Scene> Xion says, "Hmm? Nope, it just came to me."     Oh, well, she can't very well ask how it works, if no one yet knows. There is one important point to clarify, though. <J-IC-Scene> Tamamo says, "Ah, I see -- is what I would like to say, but the depths of this place are dark, and its stars ill-omened. Do you intend to wake what sleeps below, or to communicate without waking it?" <J-IC-Scene> Xion says, "It'll... be better if it's sleeping."     Stealthy creation of a universe sounds substantially more difficult. Or is it only 'quiet' creation? "A big bang would be unhelpful, in either case," Tamamo muses, while looking down at the red and not-red not-stars. "Simply leaping down seems quite dangerous, as well." She hasn't forgotten promising to avoid reckless dangers. If all the dangers are unknown, however, that leaves little that she can do.     Very carefully, she advances toward the edge of the pit, kneels carefully down, and places her hands over that lip, feeling the shape of its break. A break is a disconnection. A point of action. The memory of an event by more than the absence of what was lost, but the shape left by the boundary between that which still is and that which is no longer. The top edge is what she feels with her hands, but the whole of the emptiness is a single lack of a thing. An event occurred.     "Show me."
Go Shijima	"You talk about smart people like you're not one of them." Go says, looking up a ways at Xion as she perches on Phony's shoulders. "That was... a really well-put explanation. You've got a talent for those, X," he says, pronounced Key.      "Honestly," he then says to Cantio, "I'm just waiting to floor it. This metaphysical stuff is like another language to me, and I've never seen anything like this." There's a broad, sweeping gesture behind him. It passes over the ink-black Thames, the other side of the bridge, the alien flora, the blackened skies. Roads, cars and infrastructure, scattered, torn and crumbling. "The more I stay here, with people like Xion and Lilian and Persephone... the less worried about that I am."      "That huge cross-section there," he says, gesturing to the crater as Xion's coolness bar ticks up. "Tamamo--are you... I actually have no idea what you're doing, but I'd really like to get in there and snag a few things for Satsuki. Are you... seeing anything I need to avoid?"
Lilian Rook	Lilian arrives at Xion boldly stuntgirling off Persephone's soft big girl shoulders, or rather a little bit before, though nothing of physically endangering menace happens between reconvergence and then. "It sounds like you two have been talking about something interesting." she says. "I hadn't quite realized Xion had given it such specific thought. I and I didn't really take Persephone as the type to think about it so much." Now Lilian, herself, has to think about it, which she seems reluctant to do. It's understandable when one considers how long she must have been strenuously maximizing her attention to her surroundings all day just to get to the point of summoning.     "They can't be everything humans aren't, and they can't be nothing that humans are. Even if it's only violence or fear, they share that one thread of interaction with us. Even if it's madness to try, there is still some channel through which they can communicate information with us. Being everything humans aren't would preclude even that much knowledge of us, wouldn't it? But even if we can't understand why they are that way, we can comprehend and imagine their shapes. I could make up an Antegent right now and describe it to you, and you'd probably believe me, because we have enough of the senses and capacities to describe them that we can synthesize a half-understanding. We can't understand the matter, but we can perceive and measure the shadow it casts. We can't know what the art means, but we can name the shapes and colours that reflect ours."     When the two go out over the edge, Lilian joins, little ripples of black static coming off of her feet. "But that sounds close. That there would be something about us offensive to their very being, so that violence and madness are the only ways we touch, we'd have to just barely be able to touch, wouldn't we?"     "That we can only assume their inputs and see their outputs, and never know what goes on inside and between those things; that there could be something damning about us that we ourselves can only dimly comprehend, so that our only recourse to preempt them with greater violence before they can use theirs, never quite grasping the need for it; would imply that, at some point, in some way, we both needed our own answers to something similar, and the ones we 'chose' made us abhorrent to them, and them incomprehensible to us. Right?"     "Magic isn't something they don't understand the existence of, that doesn't touch them, but it's something they can't use; they can't reach out to it, can't touch or take or bend it, or even comprehend how. It just happens. There's no indication they even built or grew or intentionally used the Rivets in any way; there are still dissimilarities between them."     "If that's how you choose to think of it, then it'd be as if they see our own mass-shadows just as well as we see theirs, and they expected to see something like themselves in us, and so violently abhor its lack, while at the same time, we can only dimly guess what that might be by the shapes and reflections we project on them; and then they abhor that projection --what shapes we force them into-- more than anything . . . else . . ."     Lilian stops talking. She looks a tiny bit sick.
Lilian Rook	The past that Tamamo sees is as what could have been guessed at, but still another thing entirely to actually witness. The threads of fate spread out over such a gargantuan area of physical dimension and contorted time that the most strenuous effort at clarity results in a sense of being inside a gauzy bubble of dreams, on which every inch of its walls is played a vision that seems nearly real enough to touch, but not quite.     Gloomy rainclouds twist asunder as around the path of a bullet, dragged in by its rifled spin. The sky did not crack or splinter or tear as if by natural calamity, but against the sight of a starry night, a scarlet halo swallows all view of the moon; an everywhere and everywhen sound like a silver hammer striking a glass charge, and the peals of singing reverberation.     The shadow of a tower to dwarf Babel rips through the sky. It catches light in an instant as it enters the atmosphere, burning like the end of the world. It streaks north towards the coast, briefly, before it curves, sharply, as if remembering Earth's gravity too late, and correcting all at once. Its sheer massiveness, its sheer speed of cosmic descent, obliterates the cultural pride of Britain in an instant, extinguishing so many thousands of lives with so much force that the noise itself becomes fire.     Its needle-shape and immense weight send it deep into the earth, far below her feet, before the explosion of its arrival can spread further. But the entire chasm glows, then shines, then blazes with all that stormy red light and black shadow, and the first sounds of chaos and violence echo up from beneath. Behind it, up in the sky, scores of flaming meteorites, tumbling in freefall like shed splinters until their shape alone orients them, light enough to fall more slowly. Light enough that they are bent and dragged less sharply. Light enough to almost be ignored by gravity. They crash down at near-random for miles, only the largest of them course-adjusting near the end, and by then, the sirens and the screams are already loud enough to drown out their impact.
Persephone Kore	For once in her life, Phony looks up at Xion. A warm, approving smile crosses her face, so deep it can only be fully expressed by closing her eyes to smile with her eyelids too.      "Big," she says, followed by a little laugh.      "I think a lot about humans, and things that aren't human, and everything that humans aren't." That's directed at Xion and Lilian in almost equal measure. To the latter, she holds out her hand as if helping her to cross a gap, even though they're both walking on air and it's really not necessary. "And the things they can understand, and the things they can't. And whether I wanted to still count as one of them or not."      "Doesn't that make sense? Or is it a little strange? I can't envision a new humanity without knowing the outline of the old one. I guess that's why it always felt important to know."      Her eyes follow Xion's orb as it falls into the depths. Without looking up, she gives a little nod. "You can count on me to keep them safe, Xion! Haha, even if I didn't understand most of that, don't worry even a little bit." A little pause. Her eyes stay locked on the void below. "Do you do this often? Making universes. You seem like you've had practice!"
Lilian Rook	Xion's 'keychain' falls down, down, down into the blackness, at first melting into invisibility from the play of dark on dark, and then melting from other senses in all kinds of different ways. The fall is a long one. So long it becomes impossible to guess if it's reached the bottom, or never will. All there is to do is to wait and hold in breath.     One by one, the red lights in the dark half-rouse from dim slumber, the smouldering of fresh embers stirring itself to the asynchronous twinkling and gleaming of stars, and then to a brightness that even the stars in a nowhere sky can only envy, like fire in orbit. By their radiance, she --all-- can see, in dull red suggestion and stark chiaroscuro shadow, something almost like the branches of a tree. A grand and dizzying sprawl of gleaming black ribbons and spirals fill the dark space, revealed as the strings that hold the countless hundreds of red orbs up in the air. Each one floats within its own unwound helix, as the head of any other Rivet, but all of them eventually flow and wind together as they trace backwards, all sprouting from a single, gargantuan trunk.     The spearpoint of that singular spike is far beyond the reaches of sight or touch now, but its middle isn't, even if it should be. The Rivet that is a tree that is a city unwinds, partly, at its middle, unravelling the thread of its hard shell to coil about an exposed red core ten times the size of the others, nestled in its exact, bifurcated middle. It burns every other colour on the tree at once, as if an entire new way of seeing could be rendered in just the colour red, with the right eyes to see it. And in the exact center of that giant core, the blackness is not a foggy stormcloud, but a shape; giant and defined, recognizably three-dimensional, trapped in amber. And within that dark giant, a tiny figure of white light, cast as from an infrared camera, too small and distant to see from the edge.     No Antegent appear. No lightning crackles within those blood red raindrops on its branches. It's eerily pretty, when they're peacefully still like this. Tiny motes of their colour seep into the branches and run down the entire construction in gathering spirals, flowing in regular intervals like a heartbeat. It is awake, and alive, and perhaps not conscious, but maybe meant to be touched by something that is.     There is no direct answer to her, but there is a single feeling --a single impulse, an urge-- that rises off of it like heat, palpable to some degree by any level of sensitivity. Undirected, unambiguous, without selecting or judging, merely drowsily spoken aloud. It is The urge to reach out to it. The urge to touch it. And by doing so, understand everything all at once. To forget old things. To learn new things. To experience new senses. To feel new ways of being. To shed everything that doesn't fit. To fashion what feels right into a new skin. To turn inside out, disappear from here, and never need understand another human being ever again. To be something all unto oneself, tautologically self-proving, existing forever without being shaped by another soul.
Staren	The nature of the antegent is discussed. Staren nods along with Lilian's hypothesis. It sounds like something out of an especially strang sci-fi novel, but it is, of course, comprehendable; Even if humans cannot comprehend the thing-antegents-have-that-humans-lack, and vice versa, the idea that there IS such a thing is sensible. ...we can only assume their inputs and see their outputs...     That's certainly a mood. It's how Staren's kind of had to see people, after all. A memory of a little girl reading a book about a fairy princess and identifying with the nonhuman comes to mind as she considers Lilian. Guess she knows what that's like too... Well, except for the whole mindreading thing. Maybe that's why she learned to do it? Said mindreading doesn't work in reverse, though, so she doesn't quite get where Lilian is going at the end there.     Phony is talking. '...think a lot about things that aren't human...' Staren feels guilt for how she ironically internalized the hate of all *mentally* nonhuman while being so disgusted at speciesists who cared ony about physical differences. 'And whether I wanted to still count as one of them or not.' It seemed so important, once, but I can't remember why...     Staren's pulled out of her thoughts by something happening. It looks so strange, that when no antegent appears, she walks to the edge and opens her cockpit so she can verify with her own eyes perceptions drones might not pick up.     She tenses up as the need to understand resonates so deeply with her. It consistantly pushes her to make bad decisions, but hasn't been snuffed out because sometimes, it works...     To never need to understand a human being ever again. To exist without being shaped/beaten into shape by souls that so abhor differences.     Staren stares down, reds beyond red reflecting off her visor and her corneas.     Is this an opportunity? An offer? Or is it understanding, shared feelings from the Antegent?
Go Shijima	<J-IC-Scene> Tamamo says, in response to Go, her tone distant, "I might not see the things that are. Yet, perhaps, they might still be." <J-IC-Scene> Go Shijima says, "So... you're looking at 'things that were.' I've got it." <J-IC-Scene> Tamamo says, "The shape of the thing that fell here was as a tower, but it buried itself within the earth. How deeply, I do not know, but I see, now, that this is not a crater, but a tunnel, and it came here with purpose."      "Well," says Go, looking down, past the edge, "It's a tunnel that can still be useful to us, isn't it? In its way. I'll be right back."      The Mach Driver revs--in his passing, Go kicks up clouds of loose gravel and earth. A red-and-white streak travels almost straight down, tracing lines of cross-sectioned Enlightened facilities. They would've kept the more valuable materials, the more impactful projects, further from risk of prying eyes, wouldn't they?      About halfway down is where that blur makes a hard right angle, venturing -into- the complex instead of just down it. The Special Illumination function of the armor swivels out at-speed. As crumbling rooms race past him in time-dilated blur, the light points, at his command, towards objects of interest. For people like Satsuki and the rest of Lilian's support staff, information would probably be most important.      Go prioritizes written records, storage mediums. Lost knowledge that can be reclaimed. But there are too many stops heard from within for that to be all he's looking for. He's also taking pictures of installations, rooms, artifacts along the way--so that there'll be a kind of inventory as to what still remains, and incentive for return trips. He hopes, anyway.      That hope makes him aware of something else, tugging in his mind. Xion's work--the awakened, enormous rivet--casting everything in red. "I... I'd very much like some of those things, whoever-you-are," he says, unable to think of a name for it, leaning against a wall with what treasures he's managed to prise tucked under an arm. "There's a lot about me that doesn't fit. That I want to change... am changing. I've thought about disappearing sometimes, too," he announces to the empty air.      "But... there are people I love out here," he says, turning to look out at the source of the red glow directly, through cored-out walls. "I've been helped, so much, all my life, by other people. The shape I am now... it wouldn't exist, without other souls. Even so..."      "I hope you can get what you need."
Persephone Kore	To Staren's thoughts, Persephone answers: You remember that about Lilian too, don't you? Those fairytale books she read, where she always liked the fairies better. Didn't her father scold her for that? ... But even if it's tempting, please don't go. I have to stay. And I'd miss you, if it were just one of us.      Xion, of course, is still on her shoulders. With a glance upward: "I'm going to go down. Do you want to get off?" If the answer is 'yes', she kindly provides a floating piece of debris to serve as a replacement platform.      And then she descends, floating down oh-so-slowly into the red-black dark. She's careful not to touch those little red suns- isn't it weird how 'red' can mean so many different things, in different places?- or the structure of the tree itself. As tempting as it is, I don't want to cross over. I can't let it turn me inside-out. Not with everyone depending on me.      Instead, she gets just close enough to get an unobstructed view of that little glowing figure. Does it have a mind that she can sense? Even if not, she can read the story off of the source of that sense of un-human invitation.      Why are you the way that you are?
Kale Hearthward	Kale stays up on the edge of the crater. He keeps the camera rolling, though, and his hands as steady as he can, throughout all of this...
Cantio	"Don't worry, Go. You're not the only one struggling with this." Cantio admits, snickering briefly while rubbing the back of her head. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, but beyond Xion explaining it in simpler termes, it's... I'd rather be dealing with machines and stuff I can put my hands on, you know?" Lilian puts forth her own perspective on the makeup of the Antegent, and that has Cantio furrowing her brow uncomfortably as well by the end of all that. "I wonder if that means they see us as distorted Angent, tehn. But if that's the case, would it be possible to even...?" She doesn't let herself finish that sentence. "... No, it has to be possible. Everything communicates in some manner, so I'm sure there's some way to communicate with the Antegent. It just might not be easy or pleasant or... Reveal anything we might actually want to know." She started out sounding upbeat and confident in Xion's plan, at least! She's just sounding a little down by the end of that. Thankfully, there's something more concerning that's less thought-about and more seen. Even without any actual Antegent appearing, there's that distinct feeling of something calling to her, to... Change everything. To understand how things are here, but at the cost of understanding what she already did before. The temptation is strong. There's a lot about this world she'd (presumably) be able to understand and things about how everything works in general that might come to make sense suddenly. "There's... Knowledge. Information that we might not ever be able to get without taking this... This up on that trade. It's really tempting." She comments while peering into the hole, looking like she's about to drop right off into the waiting abyss. "It's a really huge opportunity, but if it means becoming a different person... Entity? Whichever entirely, then..." That would mean giving up on so many other things. People, places, memories. Everyone and everything she's ever known. In that context, Cantio can't allow herself to take up that thing on such a trade, shaking her head once before gesturing at her drones to issue new orders. "It's still pretty tempting, but... I've got too much riding on me being me." Instead, she follows Go's lead, sending drones out after him to capture as much footage of this redness and darkness as they can, to retrieve documents and other objects that might be too unwieldy for just one person to bring back, or too dangerous to even attempt to catch without smaller flight-capable bodies. Cantio herself, however, is content to stay out of the hole and hang with the rest of the above-hole crew. Should Go look like he needs a hand, however, she's ready to hop in to help drag him out.
Lilian Rook	<<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "Oh." <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "I've felt this before." <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "Or something like it." <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "You feel it too, don't you?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Kale Hearthward says, "You feel it too- yeah." <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "It aches. But it's beautiful." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, "I shouldn't." <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "But you do." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, "That's not supposed to be possible." <<J-IC-Scene>> Kale Hearthward says, "It's... compelling." <<J-IC-Scene>> Xion says, "It's lonely." <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore exhales softly. <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "I want to. I really, really want to. But just like last time... there's too many obligations I can't leave behind." <<J-IC-Scene>> Xion says, "It's a better offer than being alone and hurting." <<J-IC-Scene>> Xion says, "But you aren't alone. So it's not a better offer to you." <<J-IC-Scene>> Tamamo laughs, lightly. "Ahaha... how truly alien." <<J-IC-Scene>> Go Shijima says, "Can we make it... not those things?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Go Shijima says, "Not alone, not hurting?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Xion says, "Ah, mm." <<J-IC-Scene>> Xion says, "No. We can't 'make' it." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, "The bandages aren't the hurt. The wound isn't the hurting." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, "Being alone isn't the loneliness." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, "People feel those things. Nothing . . . is, those things." <<J-IC-Scene>> Staren says, "Persephone... you think it's an offer?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Go Shijima says, "Well, you 'feel' that... feeling, right?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "... It sounds like one. I don't know if it's true." <<J-IC-Scene>> Go Shijima says, "I've wanted a lot of those things." <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "I'm not going to take the offer. But I have to reach out. To see if I can understand it." <<J-IC-Scene>> Xion says, "Well, I'd say 'you read my mind', but actually I really hadn't figured it out at all yet." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, "Is an apple hanging from a tree, an offer?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Xion says, "I just do what feels right." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, "Can a tree offer something? Is the redness of the apple an offer implicit? Or is it something that we're designed to project?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Xion says, "The tree doesn't have to know if the apple will find a bird or a squirrel or the dirt." <<J-IC-Scene>> Tamamo says, "I can feel a feeling, but that does not mean I understand what caused it. It is not feeling I should ever have, myself, and so, it would be 'alien,' whether I understood it, or not." <<J-IC-Scene>> Xion says, "The tree has faith, and makes apples." <<J-IC-Scene>> Xion says, "You should try talking to trees more, Lilian, they like you lots." <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "No. We're mostly feeling the same thing." <<J-IC-Scene>> Staren says, "Maybe it's not a tree; Maybe tree is just the closest thing we can understand it as." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, ". . . what is a root if not a form of rivet?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Arthur Lowell makes a tense, anxious noise. <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, "I hate this. I really want to go down. But I can't shake the feeling that I shouldn't."
Lilian Rook	<<J-IC-Scene>> Cantio says, "Going down is tempting. There's... Knowledge. Information that we might not ever be able to get without taking this... This up on that trade." <<J-IC-Scene>> Staren says, "A trade? What are we giving to it?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Kale Hearthward says, "Call of the void feels like the right way to put it... I gotta stay up here, though." <<J-IC-Scene>> Cantio says, "What we know now and are right now." <<J-IC-Scene>> Cantio says, "You shouldn't, Lilian. You're..." <<J-IC-Scene>> Cantio slow inhale, then "...Hhhh. You're better off as you are now." <<J-IC-Scene>> Staren says, "...Happy." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook 's voice cracks. "Am I?"      <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "Hahaha. When you put it that way, you're already sort of perfect, aren't you, Tamamo? So I guess you really wouldn't." <<J-IC-Scene>> Kale Hearthward says, "I'm not perfect, but I like who I am..." <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "But most people aren't born whole." <<J-IC-Scene>> Staren says, "...Sorry. Was feeling kind of bitter. It's passed." <<J-IC-Scene>> Persephone Kore says, "Girls like us least of all." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, "Some of us are born more wrong than others." <<J-IC-Scene>> Staren says, "Is anyone ever really whole...?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, "Did I ever tell you how jealous I am of your question, Tamamo?" <<J-IC-Scene>> Tamamo says, "I have not reached the end of my journey, but if I was not who I am, what guarantee would there be that I would wish to travel that journey, at all? No, self-destruction is only what it is." <<J-IC-Scene>> Lilian Rook says, ". . . No, I'll save that for another time." <<J-IC-Scene>> Tamamo says, "You have not -- and I will wait."
Arthur Lowell	>==>     Arthur watches the grand tree awaken. He sees it light up. He listens to its feelings. He tosses his sunglasses aside, shoulders slumping as he looks into the face of this self-recreation. Is it Expiration? Is he staring at the great corpse? He isn't really sure. It's something awful, and he doesn't like it. He steps forward, taking a deep breath. >Arthur: Enter     He holds tight to a certain human experience. Most recently, the experience with Grant and Jackson, that's a good one. Suffering, dissatisfaction, the rooting experience of human pain, something to cling to so that his brain doesn't give way. And he focuses his mind into an older way of thinking. >Arthur: Speak to the tree and the apple     Quantity matters -- that's what Lilian said. If the other Rivets are like galvanized frog legs, what is this? It's been sitting in a pit of magic for years. What can he do to communicate with it? Arthur tries something. He speaks, but every time he speaks, he uses his magic source to thrum a small pulse, not enough to do anything, but enough to be noticed. He sends it into the leylines to be amplified and sent into the tree. He will speak to it in the medium of what it's been sitting in for years. He speaks in a dozen void-tongues, math-languages, and even just plain english. After all, it's been sitting in plenty of libraries.     "I will not join you in Becoming. Pain is not a justification for what has happened." He says, as he drifts towards the center. He communicates in the limited terms that he heard from the pirate radio Antegent. "Explain: 'Endless, incomprehensible chaos.' 'Someone, somewhere, hurt, who couldn't begin to contend with too many.' 'Who possesses the concept of the end of the world.' 'Fire, killing every single one of them.' 'The end of the world.'"     He refuses to sympathize or engage with the urge of self-destructive recreation. It has already been hurting too much for too many years.
Staren	It's reeeeally tempting, for awhile there. Not understanding others has been a source of lifelong pain for Staren. For the past several years, of course, she could never even consider this; it's anathema to certain thoughts. But now the warnings in her head are quieter and half-hearted; even that part of her knows that letting that way of thinking control her actions only ever hurt her. Maybe change would be for the better, who really knows?     Staren thinks of her own pain and what unimaginable pain this being must have felt, to feel this way, and tears well up in her eyes and begin to run down her cheek.     It seems like her brain can't hold that much sadness in it for long, though. The offer just... seems less compelling now, than it was. Also, Lilian is humanizing herself and that makes the whole 'things will be better in the future' idea seem a little more real again.     And then Staren is very concerned when Phony goes down to talk to it but brings no one else with her, but... she's not talking. Oh, is she doing the other thing?     Arthur is talking though.     Again, the time she used Phony's power on the antegent comes to her mind. "Their existence here has been pain. All this began with a wound. And they emerged into a place that hurt. They run and hurt, endlessly, looking for something... It's not quite a thing remembered, or a thing longed for, or the cure to a painful absence... Running... they're just running... I got a sense of unforgivableness, but was it humans they were unable to forgive? Or did the antegent believe something else judged them unforgivable...?"     Beat.     "I mean, I guess humans kinda have, fairly enough after everything... But, if the antegent stopped hurting people, that would be more important than revenge, right...?"
Tamamo	Tamamo looks in the direction the moon had been, where the colors had first changed, before something had appeared. Matters of attraction, as of a falling tree to deeper ground, are familiar to her. There was a well, here, and into that, it flew, and it made another kind of well. What she cannot see is what was past that change, from where the needle the size of the greatest tower had come. Lilian tells her that the one on the moon came, later. Perhaps it's only a coincidence.     A tree and its splinters. The splinters aren't so important, are they? Yet, still, like cuttings. Things that can take root and grow, if cared for. It has seeds and fruit -- or does it? A resemblance is only that much. A door can also be a mouth, and a chair with a noose can be teeth.     She feels the urge.     To reach out to it, though she knows she should not.     To touch it, though she knows she should not.     To understand everything at once, though she knows she would not. Only by removing the questions do the answers become complete, and what would be left of her, then?     To learn new things, as all that move must.     To experience new senses, as a newborn does, but how many times has her life begun, now? At least twice.     To feel new ways of being, though she knows a fresh start is the same as giving up.     To shed everything that doesn't fit, though she knows not what fit that urge compels, if it is not hers.     To fashion what feels right into a new skin, though she's already done that quite well, she thinks.     To turn inside out, disappear from here, and never need understand another human being ever again, as if such a thing could be anything but revolting down to the core of her being.     To be something all unto oneself, as if that was not an invitation to imprisonment beyond all hope and despair.     To become a stone.     She already knows that fate.     Tamamo watches others descend.
Xion	<J-IC-Scene> Persephone Kore says, "I have to go down there. And ask it that question. That's what you wanted, isn't it, Xion?" "Ah, well..." Xion crouches down, transferring to perch more like a crow or particularly bright-eyed gargoyle. "'What I wanted' is hard, Persephone. Everyone came because I 'wanted' something. What I wanted, wanted, desired, hungered for, felt like a crack in the glass, or a song in my head, spilled like ink behind my eyes, was..." Persephone asks her if she'd like to go down. Lilian, near her at the center of the pool, underlit by infinite light, of the burning of all the asleep-but-conscious stars, worries between going down and staying. Both know, for a moment, her first impulse was to whisper it in Persephone's ear, and how useless Xion realizes that would be in a moment of lively laughter. "Ahh... this is hard..." "... the feeling that I had a choice." Raking her fingers through the right side of her hair, Xion shakes out her bangs and lets her hand rest down in her 'lap', perched on Persephone's shoulder. "I thought it was my choice, since it was inside me, but it wasn't. I was just wearing it, holding it, swinging it. It was one I didn't think was that strange at all, but I understood it differently. I got context, from the bits of hearts I borrowed. You're right, Lilian." Xion smiles, as warmly as she can, genuinely, but with eyes open. She has a Rule about that. "You're so correct, and I'm proud of you for knowing. You don't 'need' to expose yourself to hurtful things. But Persephone is right..." Xion nods. "I know I need her to help me with something, now. I figured it out, because the pieces are right next to each other, and even if Go thinks I'm the smart one -- I'm really just a big goof with a key. I want to open the way." And so, she sinks. Down,     Down,         Down,         Until Persephone asks her question. It's important, that she ask it. It's important that -she- ask it. It's important that she -ask- it. Perched on Persephone's shoulder, Xion thinks about the offer of the infinite self, and, standing on Persephone, joined by Arthur in-the-spirit. Here, there is no down. The compass spins. Reaching to her chest and drawing out a thin trunk of wood with hilt and keychain from her 'heart', and whispers down at Persephone. "I think it matters that you're big. Can't you being you be the most important thing of all?" In 'answer', though, she only has to ask another question, in the Language of Trees. Would you like someone else to understand you?
Lilian Rook	Going down into the hole is an exercise of feeling perspective warp without anything happening to the curve of spacetime. It feels like not very long, and it feels like forever, and one can see the top and bottom of the tree, but one can see the stars in the sky too, and have no concept of where and when they are from just their light.     The orb in the center, and the way it has bifurcated the trunk, when examined up close, looks as if it had once been inside, and eventually grown so large that the exterior split --and that it was designed to from the very start. It feels less like looking at a sphere of something, and significantly more like looking at a way into somewhere. Not a star, but a white hole. A point of gravity so deep that it tears the place that it is. Inside of it, the enormous shadow appears to be curled up in something resembling the inside of an egg, many times a human's size, but still roughly shaped like one, even if it is too slender, too sculpted, too abstract, too strangely perfect.     The white spectre seems to somehow exist within its chest, and floats there at a weightless upright. It's definitely a human shape. Slim and androgynous and faint; bright and ephemeral without coming into focus. It feels like something unbearably precious. Something that might come to them, if they knew how, but which might burst and disappear, as if it never have existed in the first place, if mishandled.
Lilian Rook	Persephone's question to the 'tree's history is answered with an assault to the brain, of time beyond comprehension, space beyond measuring, places and events so abstract that just grasping the barest understanding of them feels as if her brain will melt into the universe at any second. Its past cannot be understood, its existence cannot be understood, without becoming something which cannot understand being human. But she can feel its curves in the dark.     This tree was 'sacred'. It was for time immeasurable. There were four, like siblings. Divided between them, all 'wishes' were gathered up. All 'wishes' were embodied. All 'things' came true. But not all 'wishes' were good. Not all 'wishes' could fit in the world. Not all 'the ones who wished for them' could exist together. So great 'hands' plucked and cut all the 'good wishes' from the branches, all the ones that fit, the desires and ways to be that were 'chosen', and sent the trees away; far, far away. The 'good fruits' were kept by the 'hands' that chose what is good, and turned into 'rules', and from those 'rules' were fashioned 'tools'; and all the 'wishes' that didn't fit were sent away --far, far away-- somewhere else, never to be seen. Without the 'good branches', those 'wishes' could only be even more abhorrent to the 'chosen hands', but they would never again trouble them.     But 'unchosen hands' were troubled by them. And those 'unchosen hands', far, far away, who were once very, very close, found ways to send the trees back, bit by bit. The trees remember their own 'branches'. They can find them, even if they've been sharpened into 'tools', and draw from them as roots from mulch. After long decades, the first green buds of new 'branches' appeared to replace the old, but it took even longer for someone to know how to 'wish' on them. This tree, like the others, heard those terribly few 'wishes', and chose a favourite --one it could 'hear' clearest, 'understand' most-- wished for by 'un-chosen hands'. Its bright red bloom signifies that 'wish' has fully ripened. Whether it is picked now, or falls on its own later, is merely a variance of time.     Xion's question has such a simple answer. So unambiguous and pure that it can't possibly be misunderstood, by those with the hearts to let it in. It is the tree's purpose to understand, not be understood. The nature of wishes is to only be understood by the heart that wished for them. There are countless thousands of entities without the ability to understand, that it senses, in a way without agency and without perspective, but it seems to be certain that she, Persephone, and especially someone it was waiting for, can already understand it just fine.     Both she and Xion, so close to it, are suddenly absolutely certain; that white spirit doesn't look so faint and gossamer frail anymore. It has a definite shape. Female contours. Bright eyes. Texture enough for a night-black scar over one nose and beneath one eye. Both of them have the dire sense that, above all else --above anything else-- Lilian should not be the one to take it.
Lilian Rook	Somehow, what Arthur gets back, in the flickering and glimmering of that bloodred spiral galaxy above him, implicit in stars and nebulae and moons and rings rendered in crimson and scarlet, reminds him more of 'having queried a system', than, for instance, asking the Noble Horrorterrors. But, to him, who can communicate in these languages of space and dreams and becoming, it is comprehensible enough.     It is inevitable that the unchosen, those who have borne the embodiment of unwanted wishes for so long; those whom the chosen decided they never wanted back; those who cannot wield the rules set down by the chosen; would eventually find their own way, even if it should take eons to learn how. The chosen have forgotten. The unchosen have waited and bled and prepared. Before then, it would be ideal if those who should have been amongst the chosen, who were un-chosen instead, could have their wishes granted, as this miniscule group has a unique opportunity. It is probable this world will not exist much longer, by some unquantifiable timeframe. There need to at least be the four who were discarded and re-chosen left over.
Lilian Rook	Go, leaping into the catacombs, feels the tree's temptation, its call, its gravity, pulling him even through any amount of dirt and stone and guttering magical wards. But he can ignore it. Everything nearby is obliterated. Everything a little ways beyond that is ruined. Further beyond that, it's merely dishevelled.     With Cantio's drones helping map, it becomes apparent about a third of the original subterranean sprawl was left. There's no evidence it was ever permanently inhabited, but it is rife with all sorts of officious gathering halls and grand and elaborate ateliers for the most elite of the elite. Vaults filled with relics sealed by the crown --some stolen from Egypt, China, Palestine, Mexico, some entirely domestic, passed through lines of royal orders and religious organizations-- are mostly intact, and thus absurdly tightly sealed. Registers of ownership aren't hard to find, telling them exactly who originally had right of ownership, or at least right to requisition, and perhaps how they might be found, or more likely their next of kin traced.     Libraries have fared the least well, but are replete with difficult grimoires, 'true histories', alchemic appendices, and ample maps and records of the sprawling web of masquerade secrets that used to exist all across the country, are easily found with idle rifling fingers. What's left is still, by far, a goldmine. Even if expensive components, aborted projects, and broken store rooms, are useless, it's still a third of a major cultural monument originally frequented by every important magic-user in the country.     Including the major orders that have still exist, and consolidated power. Regions belonging, in administration and legality, to the Clan Pendragon Reclamation, the Roots of Ulster, and the Ring of Solstice.     Lilian, back up at the edge, is stuck biting her nails, staring into the chasm in growing impatience. Nail biting turns to fidgeting. Fidgeting turns to pacing around. Pacing turns to walking to the edge, stopping, then coming back. Repeating it turns into a maniacal restlessness completely unlike her. After not very long, the best she can do is to grab on to Tamamo by the arm as if the bunrei were fixed to the ground and she might be washed away if she let go.
Cantio	Cantio can't clearly see what's going on down there herself, but she has her drones, and she can hear her companions speaking up top. There's still a lot of it she visibly doesn't quite get based on the confused look on her face, but she continues listening regardless just to try and understand some of it better than not at all. It would be far easier to do so if she just went into the hole, but she still refrains from doing that despite Tamamo's suggestion still sounding somewhat tempting. Also, somehow not insulting in the slightest. It's not as if she doesn't have a point, but still. With the drones still on the case, Cantio shifts their focus slightly to enable their grabbing of stuff to be directed by her companions today, notably Go as the closest person actually down there getting stuff.
Tamamo	For Xion's sake, if nothing else, Tamamo hopes this journey comes to something. So little is her desire to descend, and moreover, so great is her desire to not do so, that Tamamo leaves off entirely any thought of seeing the underground vaults that have survived. On that front, she wishes Go safe travels, and watches him until he disappears, some underground door, now nearly exposed to the sky, taking him further away from the buried, branching, fruiting tree. That is good. Better than that he approach it, too.     Most of all, Tamamo doesn't trust it. She lacks that sure belief that all things will turn out right in the end, that she can do any and every thing, so long as she tries hard and believes. That something has killed every other one who has reached out to it, but would not kill her, she can't think, at all.     "How very brave," she murmurs, but there's a taste of something else to the words, and a wondering that's less than wonder. "What was it she saw, before, that made her so certain she would see something, this time? Is it only hope?"     Maybe she should speak of hope. That's something one should naturally support, isn't it? It's a thing everyone needs, isn't it? Could she fail to support another's grand questions? But the icy grip of something else quiets her.     Not Lilian's grip. That can only be warm, for her. She'll make it warm, gently but firmly, if it isn't, already. Lilian holds her arm, and Tamamo places her other hand over that of her knight. "I shall sit here. Will you not sit with me? In this place, I would least like to be alone."
Persephone Kore	"I get it," Persephone murmurs as her gaze comes back into focus. Her hand is outstretched. It is just a foot short of the vast red core. "The wishes that got to be part of the world, the building-blocks of the world. Which wishes get to have authority, which ones don't. The ways the world could have been, but wasn't. The things that humans could have been, but aren't."      "They don't get to have magic, because magic is part of what was chosen. Magic gets to be real. They have other laws, other ways of turning wishes into reality. Don't they?" Her gaze shifts from the smaller bright figure, to the larger dark figure that surrounds it. It seems familiar to her as it takes shape, like in a dream?      Grasping, holding, hitting, petting. Four hands, four causalities, four doors. Is that a coincidence? "This tree is Lilian's. It is her wish-that-isn't-magic. In that awful home, she learned to wish for a thing that humans were cut off from. Isn't that right?"      Her eyes open wide in shock but no surprise when the bright figure inside solidifies into definitely-just-Lilian. Even though she knew, a little gasp escapes her. "Xion... I don't know if that's a good idea," she says softly. Her hand withdraws without having touched it.      Even so, a tiny wish of hers bubbles to the surface. I wish it knew it wasn't really alone. It's a catastrophic, unwise, careless wish, one she really shouldn't make at all. But it manifests. A small 'telekinetic' force- really a rearrangement of the universe, an impossible effect no matter how gentle, a wish made real without permission from what Is or was Chosen- touches the small glowing figure inside the orb, as if to squeeze its hand.      With or without Xion- who can get a telekinetic hover-assist if she chooses to stay behind- Persephone floats back up to the surface in an uncharacteristic hurry. Setting back down on the chasm's lip, she briskly walks over to Tamamo and Lilian.      "That's your power down there," she says simply. Her expression and voice are neutral, but there's an undercurrent of distracted concern. "It is 'the ways time could have been, but is not'. An impossible wish. Something that could have been part of the world's foundation, but isn't, and was waiting for you to wish it into being."      "We knew that, didn't we? That it really wasn't a human thing. But I don't think we meant it like this."
Go Shijima	It takes some time to get his bearings. Seeing that haunting, ethereal silhouette rushing towards him on the way down the walls is hard to keep from his mind, at first. But the farther he gets, the easier it is to remember why he came down here.      "This is perfect," exclaims Go, darting between bookshelves in the library. The articulated headlight dims--a low-intensity light that should allow for pictures, without doing too much damage to the older books. Flash off on the camera.      After having photographed the vaults, he finds himself poring through the records of ownership nearby. "So many names," he says, armored fingers gently turning the page. "It's no wonder the vault would be a huge thing like that."      His finger pauses over a name. "No way," he utters in mild disbelief. "Well... I guess she'd want to know." Go pushes off of the table he'd laid the registry out on. He waves the nearest Cantio-drone over. "Hey, can you grab that, please?"      It's harder going back up. What he leaves behind him seems so precious and yet so imperiled--what if something happens and he's not there to catch it? When he arrives, gracefully touching down, the reflective visor of his helmet prevents anyone seeing the guilty look in his eyes.      He opens his mouth to say something. Unable to find any words, Go instead motions for the drone and retrieves the book as it flies back up. He steps forward, book open, finger on a name. Go offers it to Lilian.
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: Ascend     Arthur returns, aboard his broom. When he lands, he looks to Lilian, and then back to the pit. His shoulders go slack again as he listens to Persephone, but doesn't look at her or Lilian. He runs a hand through his hair and mutters, a little, before he finally works up what he needs to turn back to her. "Every time I talk to these fucking things, I hate it." He rambles. "It's the worst shit."     He turns to fully face her. "That's something like your wish down there, huh? Christ, I know how to pick 'em, huh." He grimaces bleakly, laughing hollowly. "This sucks, man. Well, whatever. I stick with who I decide to back. Even if that's a bad idea. But hey, least I figured out where the Antegent came from. Or at least what the tree thinks they came from. Looks like a separation with some proto-reality state, way back. Messy divorce. The exes are hanging around again. Assuming I'm getting this right..."     "Which means *your* thing, whatever it is--" He starts, gesturing at Lilian, before he stops himself. The hand he was pointing at her instead turns to a light clench, then falls to his side. "'Unchosen' wish. Like the Antegent were un-chosen. There's three more of you. And *someone* thinks the world's gonna end and leave you four." He scowls a bit. "You're probably not a fan of that."     He looks a bit agonized by this. He understood that the Antegent were capable of functionally ending society, but it wasn't really tangible until one made the brazen claim of that inevitability applying to the entire world.
Xion	Persephone comes to a lot of understandings. Arthur speaks, and Xion learns a new thing about his power, the bubbles-of-octopuses and the similarity to dream-beads of glass. Xion, for her part, sits more fully on Persephone's shoulder as she's shifted about. Xion has met a few Lilians now. Lilian. A scarred Lilian. A bruised Lilian. A crying Lilian. This was new. But beyond new, she 'knew', especially with Persphone as close as sitting on the ground and looking up at the stars, gazing at clouds together and guessing at shapes. And a wish. "I have a wish, too." She lights up, finding the brightness at the foot of the tree has a presence and a voice and dream. "Even if I have a purpose, a shape I'm clearly in. I have a pretty friend, and you remind me of her." Conversational. Outside the language of trees, or of minds. Xion raises her right wrist, and in her hand is smokey black iron key, in the sense of a bookshelf and lacking the distinction of 'blade' or 'chain'. It's just a key, but the smokey tooth cuts free the ring of black around her wrist that hadn't parted from her. When she holds it out, presents it on Persephone's approach, it is whole. Like a srunchie or simple wristlet, her odd adornment is easy to float along besides Persephone's offer, to a hand or around a 'finger'. But after purpose, then what? It's a tree's purpose to understand. It's a tree's nature to grow. The meaning behind fruit is sharing the bounty of the world. Xion can't do anything more. Arthur's incredible insight -- the insight of wizards -- places more keys near locks for her. The ascent passes over a single infinite heartbeat, but when she breaks the 'surface' with Persephone's help she just sort of hits the bank and spills out making whining-and-not-having-a-good-time noises while fumbling open a chocolate bar to eat. "Of myf gofh thaff waff sho saff--" Xion bawls, nasally bawling around a SNACKER'S bar. It takes her a minute just to stop sniffling, eating, snorting, and blowing her nose, her COOLOMETER at 'Summer Break'. When it clears, she coughs once into her hands, stands up, and bows to everyone. "Okay. Uh, Lilian, unfortunately, I think the answer might be 'peace and love' and I don't think your Alphabet Guys do that."
Lilian Rook	Lilian struggles heroically with words she already knows she wants to say. Like getting them from her heart to her lips means they need to achieve escape velocity first. "Yeah. I'd . . . That'd be better." she says to Tamamo, and sits beside her, leaning on her shoulder.     Persephone's wish --a wish she can't stop herself from having-- breaks the surface tension. Here, in the presence of the tree, even slumbering and dreaming, the pressure of Earth's reality, the weight of Earth's gravity, the tension of Earth's skin, is too low. Even without the necessary shades of hue and brightness to be precise, she can tell that the white shade just looked at her. She can see that the white shade looks up to the black shadow. She can see that the black shadow stirs and looks down, just barely. The ghostly girl inside the tree-bloom holds out her hands, without getting any nearer, without becoming any realer. But she reaches out all the same, just waiting for someone to reach out to her.     And Xion does the yet more outrageous thing, and gives her a key. She puts a key in her hand. A key from a frozen moment in that old house, from when a Xion that never was understood that which Lilian would never tell. As is the way of keys, there is a click, and the sound of a latch being turned, and a barrier, briefly, swings open.     An object the size and weight of an apple falls past Xion's face and into Persephone's hands. It is black and spherical and glassy smooth, shot through with veins and streaks of reddish gold, like sea clouds seen from orbit. It is cold and metal to the touch, save the fact that a part of it seems pre-damaged; a small chunk of the surface has been scraped away, leaving thin edges sharp enough to cut the finger on, but a roughly scraped streak where the surface feels warm and soft, like holding a hand, instead. A regular, rhythmic sound comes from within it.     A soft, delicate, silver on glass ticking. Exactly one second per second, with atomic precision. Tick. Tick. Tick. A sound that has been counting forever. Just like back then.     The white ghost waves at Xion, and then curls up in its void of stars, and seems to go to sleep. Xion gets the feeling like 'She' has sent a letter, through the two of them, to the girl 'she' will eventually meet; so it's fine to have a little rest now.'
Staren	Staren just looks between the distant figure, and Persephone and Arthur, as explanations are delivered to Lilian. "The antegent is... wishes of how reality could be, but isn't?" That's kind of all wishes, isn't it? But, she thinks she gets what they mean. Unforgivable, huh... their crime is existing in a world anathema to their existence?     "This is Lilian's 'wish'? What does that mean? Not... the antegent invasion itself, right?" Staren's mouth runs ahead of her brain for a moment there, and when it catches up and realizes what she just implied she hurries to add, "I mean! That they were coming, but this tree-thing, it sought out a wish for its inscrutable alien reasons, and picked Lilian? And that's... where Type Black comes from?"
Lilian Rook	Lilian reacts to Go far later than she should. She takes the book from him numbly, forgetting to ask what he wants, and forgetting to thank him for bringing something. Anything to distract her from that all-consuming urge to go down. She stares, blankly, at the name, and then enough interest struggles to the surface to light up her comprehension. "Oh wow. Shijima . . . Do you think we should talk to him?"     So stricken is she that all she can do is laugh hoarsely when Arthur tells her what he knows. "Round two it is? Unbelievable. Just when I was starting to like this world a little bit, starting to hate it a little less, it's going to end? Because of something that happened forever ago?" Her laugh gets worse. "Unchosen? Is that what it said? Then apparently it knows me pretty fucking well. The one everyone chose was the person I was supposed to be, but wasn't. I existed wrong. You're telling me even the alien antegent god tree knows that? Are you kidding me? I--"     Lilian cuts off with a disgusted, despairing little noise as Persephone and Xion return. "Yeah. Yeah . . . I think I knew it was mine. It's hell, being up here. All my instincts say not to go, but I can't help but want it more than anything. I'm going crazy, even just sitting here, surrounded by all of you. Is it wrong to want something this bad? Is this what it feels like to go mad?"     "If it . . . if it has to be phrased like a wish, I still remember. All I wanted. All I could think about. I can't miss any more of life. I never want to miss anything ever again. And then, it seemed like I almost got that wish. But then . . . You know why I didn't. From then on all I could remember wanting, every time I used it, every time I got better at it, every time it got easier and easier to do that one thing, and harder and harder to do the other things I used to be able to do . . . I just wished it could finally be my turn."     "That first wish, that first dream, never came true. It wasn't allowed to. It wasn't permitted. So I made it smaller, and sharper. I carved of all the branches, all the little possibilities, until it was lean and edged and pointed, and it could cut through all the everything in the way. Then it came true, every time."