The tapping sensation against Zelos' forehead contrasts harshly against the melodious notes in the shores of his subconscious, the transmission cutting and distorting the song, leaving it in a cacophony of all the wrong pitches, murky and echoing as this new message, this voice, overpowers everything and booms loud in his ears.

But this particular signal, it sticks around long enough for Zelos to hold onto it, familiarity and curiosity both grabbing his attention and pulling it away from Mithos' song. He's... felt this before, hasn't he? He's heard this wavelength before, but not this gently, not this shyly, and definitely not this remorseful. The song fades in the distance, a distorted echo of itself as Zelos follows the message. And as he pushes himself towards it, tingling in his hands, buzzing behind his eyelids--Zelos feels that power once again, laying in waiting, that white noise he's only felt in his dreams before cutting into the song.

With the signal comes a flash of red, the image of a city of glass, and a request.

Oh.

Well, it's... it's not like Zelos has any other choice here, does he?

It's you again, comes the Aegis' slurred voice in his own mind. He doesn't know if it'll be heard, but he can try. Let me out. Just let me out. I don't care how. I can't move, anyways. Let me out.