[The main blessing of dormancy is that it's a little like being dead. Within dormancy, cradled by the soft hum of the blade network as he is, no input from the outside world can enter his systems. There's no need for resonance, no need to pretend. Zelos can just curl up at the bottom of the network's ocean and imagine, for just a while, that he doesn't even exist.
Quiet and calm, he's vaguely aware that he's been down here for nearly half a decade, or maybe longer, but. He's not really sure; and honestly, he doesn't really care. The passage of time isn't something he wants to concentrate on, after all. Zelos has enough on his plate rejecting and refusing every possible resonance that tries to hook its claws into his crystal--humanity's twisted attempts at coercing him to come back, humanity begging their weapon to return.
Zelos doesn't want to come back. Zelos won't come back. It's the one decision he's made in his life, and by the Architect's name is he going to stick to it as long as he can.
But then he feels it.
There's a ripple in the network, a connection rushing forth into his space like a hand dipping into water and reaching for him. Shy at first, then bolder, almost desperate and surrounded by confusion. Another resonance attempt. Zelos curls into himself again, but then stops. Something about this ether feels... different, somehow. Like it's not really ether, instead being something that feels ancient and old, and yet purer than concentrated ether itself. It startles Zelos, and in his moment of weakness curiosity takes over and pings it, his own ether rising to meet this new signal halfway.
The signal pings back. It's like an echo of something he should know, but doesn't. Something vulnerable and nostalgic. Gently, this echo takes a hold of his wavelength, and suddenly he opens his eyes.
Before he can help himself Zelos resonates with this new signal, link forming and solidifying between himself and his driver.
And in a bright, orange light, Tethe'alla's Aegis slowly reforms.]
WAKEY WAKEY FUCKOR AND BAKEY
Quiet and calm, he's vaguely aware that he's been down here for nearly half a decade, or maybe longer, but. He's not really sure; and honestly, he doesn't really care. The passage of time isn't something he wants to concentrate on, after all. Zelos has enough on his plate rejecting and refusing every possible resonance that tries to hook its claws into his crystal--humanity's twisted attempts at coercing him to come back, humanity begging their weapon to return.
Zelos doesn't want to come back. Zelos won't come back. It's the one decision he's made in his life, and by the Architect's name is he going to stick to it as long as he can.
But then he feels it.
There's a ripple in the network, a connection rushing forth into his space like a hand dipping into water and reaching for him. Shy at first, then bolder, almost desperate and surrounded by confusion. Another resonance attempt. Zelos curls into himself again, but then stops. Something about this ether feels... different, somehow. Like it's not really ether, instead being something that feels ancient and old, and yet purer than concentrated ether itself. It startles Zelos, and in his moment of weakness curiosity takes over and pings it, his own ether rising to meet this new signal halfway.
The signal pings back. It's like an echo of something he should know, but doesn't. Something vulnerable and nostalgic. Gently, this echo takes a hold of his wavelength, and suddenly he opens his eyes.
Before he can help himself Zelos resonates with this new signal, link forming and solidifying between himself and his driver.
And in a bright, orange light, Tethe'alla's Aegis slowly reforms.]