summonerd | i just wanna know: who broke it?

i just wanna know: who broke it?

[Sheena'd thought she was all done with dimensional travel, now that the two worlds were united. But here she is, having fallen asleep in one world and woken up in a Tethe'alla that's just different enough from the one she knows to be constantly jarring. Her connections to Aselia's summon spirits dangle loose, snapped by distance - not even Origin's power could follow her here, it seems. That's more than a little unsettling.

It takes her some time, alone in a bizarro version of Meltokio as she is, but eventually she stumbles on a lead - an old scientific journal, a mention of the power of something called an Aegis being able to transcend space and time, at least in theory. And a little asking around tells her that Tethe'alla has its own Aegis, though no one's seen it for years. Well. Worth a shot, right?

Somehow she manages to talk her way into the Tethe'allan castle where the Aegis's core crystal awaits being woken up, with a series of smiles and her very best politicking - yes, of course she's got nothing but loyalty for Tethe'alla, of course she's skilled at this, of course it'd be a great honor.

(Zelos would be proud, she thinks, wryly.)

They're dubious, but her persistence wears them down, or maybe they're just desperate enough for a return of the Aegis's power to let her try, and the orange core crystal is offered out to her.

She takes a deep breath, and reaches out to touch it.]

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The thing about Lloyd's nightmares is that they're patterned, repetitive, and most of the time, just have him deal with one fear or trauma at a time. For as unpredictable as they are in schedule, the themes and visions are usually the same five, just shuffled around and picked up whenever Lloyd's fucked up mind deems it necessary.

He's had nightmares about Mithos before. He's had nightmares about Kratos before.

He's never had this nightmare.

Bile rises in his throat as he witnesses the nightmare firsthand, sees rather than feels Mithos and Kratos take their licks at his past self, mana-heavy magic burning at his jacket and through his skin, flinching at the sound of a knee taking aim at his head. Lloyd raises a hand to instinctively touch his temple, freezing when he properly realizes he's actually here, not in his own body, watching the memory from his own eyes like he usually does. Stumbling back, his right hand slams up against the wall he collapses against, heaving a breath as the dream continues, continues, continues. Panic rushes through his hot blood, pumping through his body like adrenaline, and he shakes his head, shuts his eyes tight, trembling. What is this!? What is happening, he didn't want this, he didn't want this, didn't want any of this, didn't want to watch this fucked up lucid dream, didn't want to fight Mithos, didn't want to fight Kratos -!

The dream stops.

Lloyd doesn't open his eyes. Not even when nudged by the familiar feeling of Kratos Aurion as he knows him, not willing to see him and his cold, empty, battle-ready stare.

Lloyd doesn't dare open his eyes until the sounds of battle stop, until the tears burning behind his eyes hurt to hold back anymore, and when he blinks his eyes open, it's with an anxious body, shivering though the air is warm, the campfire doing nothing to soothe his nerves. He falls to his knees, gripping his shoulders tight enough for his nails to leave marks, keeping the shuddering breaths in his lungs for fear an upcoming attack will knock them out of his body. Blinking, he tries to take in where he is, draws a map of his position in the world with the stars as his guide. Their twinkling helps bring him back to his own body, helps him swallow down the panic and grief that lie on his tongue.

"What the fuck," Lloyd breathes out, words as shaky as his grasp on reality is. He spins around, looks for the party members, looks for Sheena, for Malos, for Anna, but finds - Mithos. Just Mithos, sobbing and curled up on himself. "Mithos? What - what the - where are we?"

Lloyd looks back down at his trembling hands. Hastily wipes hot tears streaming down his face with the back of his hands. Tries to calm his voice. "Did you - did you see all of that?"

In a moment of sympathy, Lloyd reaches out his hand, but a thought forms in his head that causes him to drop it back to his side, squinting at the crying Aegis as he does. How did this - why is it that the first time he sleeps while in resonance with Mithos, he has not only a new nightmare but wakes up in an unfamiliar place with Mithos in it, seemingly just affected as Lloyd is? As he thinks, spiraling down into his own negatively, anger spiking as he comes to the conclusion that Mithos has something to do with this, the fire behind him crackles loudly, eating the wood with a speed that tells of something coming completely out of control. "Mithos, what did you do?"

Had this been any other time, any other place, Mithos would have been fine. But. How does he get that image of Kratos out of his mind, how does he forget the pain still ringing in his skull, how does he reconcile-- It wasn't malicious, the expression in Kratos' eyes, but it wasn't automatic, either. It was deliberate, if resigned. And-- And-- Mithos knows that Kratos wasn't attacking him, he knows that he saw that memory as Lloyd would have, but-- but-- but thats worse, isn't it? Why would Kratos attack his son...!?

Lloyd's asking him a question.

Lloyd's asking him a question.

Mithos snaps his head up and stifles his sobs with a sharp inhale through his nose. Steadies his hands as best as he can. Flinches at the crackle of the fire, at the weight of Lloyd's anger and accusation. It doesn't matter. He can fix this. He aligns his thoughts, analyzes the question-- Of course Lloyd wants to know what's going on. He can explain.

"The dreamspace," he begins, balling his hands into fists and pressing them against his knees so they don't tremble, voice clear even if the rest of him is tight and shaking. "Is a place that Aegises- Aegises and their drivers can access when they sleep. A form of- of lucid dreaming." He pauses to take a breath. He still isnt 100%, but he's holding together well enough to keep explaining at least. "I-- It's been so long since I've had access to someone else's-- I forgot."

Stop for a second there, Mithos. Find words you won't regret.

He doesn't want Lloyd to get mad at him. How can he make sure Lloyd won't get mad?

"I... It's not very easy to control," Mithos says (something of a lie) with a shaky laugh he doesn't hide because maybe it will help paint him as innocent, if he doesn't hide how much this shook him, how little he wanted this specific outcome. "I- I didn't mean to-- It wasn't supposed to--"

He breaks off, still sitting on his knees, the stars overhead blotted out here and there by anxious clouds. Mithos wonders if he should apologize for invading Lloyd's privacy like this. It was supposed to take two seconds. Lloyd wasn't even supposed to know it was happening.

But then Mithos lost control. And this nightmare happened instead.

He supposes it answered his question, at least. But now he has another one. He can't stop his trembling. His ears are still ringing. Dread digs a hole in his stomach.

"Lloyd..." he says, softly, curious, terrified. "If these were your memories... why- why was- was Kratos...?"

He can't say it. Just thinking it makes him sick. He hugs himself, squeezing arms over his chest tightly for comfort.

Edited 2019-09-17 20:54 (UTC)

Annoyingly, as Lloyd watches Mithos' actions, the way he trembles and tries to make himself strong against the visions he's obviously seen, guilt starts to eat away at the anger that held itself steady in Lloyd's form, in his voice. He knows fully well that Mithos knows what he's doing, that Mithos is hundreds of years old and perfectly capable of staying out of business that isn't his, but seeing Mithos as he is now, vulnerable and shaken-up - it pulls at Lloyd's heartstrings, makes him feel bad for even raising his voice at the Aegis. Mithos looks like such a kid, like a scared kid who didn't know any better. And, well, Mithos said it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't really control it, and though doubt lingers heavily in Lloyd's mind, it's not like he can call bullshit on something he has no experience or knowledge in. (He makes it a note to ask Zelos about this later, about the dreamscape and whatever other tricks Aegises are capable of pulling.)

Really, the invasiveness of it all just pushes uncomfortable awareness that he is no longer truly alone in his head into Lloyd's attention, causes him to hard swallow and rub at his itchy eyes, and then the bridge of his nose. So he can't even have his dreams to himself, is that it? This sucks. All of this fucking sucks. Suddenly exhausted in a way Lloyd hasn't been able to physically feel in months, the fire crackling behind him tires out, flames licking at the air in a desperate attempt to raise to their previous height. Lloyd turns, sits off to the side of the campfire, trying to take in its warmth and it's comfort, staring at it in order to avoid looking at Mithos as he answers his question.

"Kratos - my Kratos - he worked for an organization called Cruxis," Lloyd starts, grabbing a stick to poke at some of the rocks at the bottom of the fire. "I wasn't raised by him. I didn't know he was even alive until last year, when I found out through -" a bitter laugh "- less than great circumstances. But, uh. Cruxis was bad. Really bad. And I ended up taking them down with the help of some friends. Kratos flipped allegiance between our party and Cruxis as was needed, and we wouldn't have been able to bring it down without him, but for a solid while, he was my enemy. He knew I was his son, and he knew that to do what was needed, he'd have to be ruthless with me. So he was."

Mithos watches Lloyd sit down, feeling Lloyd's exhaustion as much as he can see it, written in Lloyd's shoulders and the dreamspace both. The fire is barely breathing. The sky presses down from above, oppresive, stars blotted out by clouds. Some of that might be Mithos' doing, he knows, but he feels-- bad, he realizes. Guilty in ways he isn't sure how to deal with, other than to be mad about, because why should he care what Lloyd thinks? Why should he care--

Lloyd isn't just any other human, though. He's Kratos' son. From another universe. And Kratos--

Mithos swallows, tight. He keeps watching Lloyd, his stomach tied in knots, hands clenched so tight that his nails are probably leaving marks on his palms. It doesn't matter. He can choose not to feel physical pain in the dreamspace. Unfortunately there's nothing he can do about emotional turmoil.

"That's," he says, feeling incredibly ineloquent, right now. "I mean, that's." Kratos, working against Lloyd? Mithos knows Kratos loves his son, loves his family, more than anything else. Even if it was eventually for the greater good, why would-- "That's still really fucked up, though. That's- that's really--" Mithos can't get his voice to work properly, which he hates. He needs to. Stop thinking about Kratos, probably. Needs to stop thinking about seeing Kratos like that.

"Sorry," he says, instead, and normally he wouldn't but he feels like shit right now in general so it slips out. "I'll-- make sure the dream port stays closed, from here on. So we can't uh. So you won't have to." Normally his thoughts-to-mouth filter works better than this, too. "So that doesn't happen again. And you can have your dreams to yourself. It's- I mean it's fun sharing them, sometimes, but not when this happens..."

He wishes he could stop feeling so shaken up, but he cannot fathom Kratos wanting to hurt him, choosing to hurt him, so confronting that knowledge is more than he's able to stomach. It's all he can think about. He wants to stop thinking about it.

Mithos can just... Do that? Close off the port or whatever? Irritation flashes across Lloyd's eyes as he realizes that all of this could have been avoided had Mithos remembered to do that from the start, but. He lets it go, knowing that there's no use crying over spilled milk. At least this won't happen again, not without it being deliberate on either of their sides, and Lloyd can't really find it in him to try and get more than minimally angry at Mithos right now, not with him looking as much like a guilty kid as he does.

"Thanks," Lloyd says, as Mithos explains what he plans on doing. "I appreciate it." And then, with a bitter laugh and a hand dragging itself through his fringe, he adds, "to be honest, I doubt you wanna see most of my dreams, anyways."

Too real, Lloyd, too real. So he plops his palms down on the ground behind them, leans back on them, trying to appear more casual than he really is. "Kratos had his own reasons for everything he did. It's water under the bridge, and I've forgiven him for it all already. Don't sweat it."

"Even if he had his reasons, certainly there were ways to be- he could've been kinder..." Mithos grumbles out, still shaken to his core.

But, enough of that.

Mithos takes a deep breath. Does his best to push it all to the side, for now. He wants nothing more than to wake up and go find his Kratos, get a reminder of gentle touches and kind eyes, but it would be rude to leave Lloyd here alone, and a disservice to everything the dreamspace is to let this be Lloyd's only interaction with it. So, Mithos gets to his feet. A distraction, a breath of fresh air-- that'll do instead, for the moment.

The dreamspace shifts, gentle but all at once. Night becomes day, as brilliant and blue as Mithos' core crystal. A few anxious clouds still linger, but the sun shines brightly in defiance past them. Grass and campfire becomes a sandy beach, an ocean spread out before them, waves lapping gently at the shore about twenty paces away.

"It's really not so bad, the dreamspace," he says again, voice soft and fond. "It's--" He remembers he said it was difficult to control, has to find words that won't contradict that. "It's easy, sometimes, for nightmares to take over, but on good nights... I mean, you can do whatever you want, here. Visit wherever you want. It's just a dream, but..."

It's also the only taste of freedom that he had, for those years that Tethe'alla held him captive. It was probably the only reason he stayed sane.

"I like it here," he says, instead of telling Lloyd that. "It's fun to play around where you don't have to worry about gravity. Or physics. Or getting hurt." He laughs a little. "Maybe that's silly."

Edited 2019-09-23 03:53 (UTC)

Hey, that's... Pretty neat, actually. Lloyd leans back on his arms as he watches the dreamscape change, following the sky but looking down as the dirt underneath his palms changes, becoming sand instead. Though he's never really been the beach type per se, the sun feels warm against his skin, somehow, and the sound of the waves are calm and relaxing. When he closes his eyes, it almost feels like he's back at Altamira, playing volleyball with Genis and Colette, having ice cream with Sheena, racing Z -

Lloyd cuts the thought off, shaking his head, and pays attention to what Mithos has to say instead. There's something a little odd in how Mithos muses about the dreamscape, both open and not at all, pausing at random intervals - something tells Lloyd that Mithos has more he'd like to say, but doesn't know how to go about it. So Lloyd drops it, because that's not really his business to ask, anyways. But.

"I don't think that's silly," Lloyd says, shrugging. He stands up, dusting the sand off his hands, and turns to face Mithos. "In fact, if I could do something like this, I wouldn't ever wanna wake up. Anything you can think of, in the palm of your hand. Hmmmm..."

Trailing off, Lloyd has an idea come to mind. He holds out his arms, closing his eyes, and when he opens them again, it's to weight in his hands. A platter of chocolate chip cookies, just like Dirk used to make, back before the reunion of Aselia, back when they didn't have the ability to celebrate birthdays with cakes that were too much to make. Lloyd used to beg for them for days before his birthday - the day Dirk found him, really, since they weren't sure of his actual birthday - and it's with a fond smile that he takes a cookie, still soft and melty, and bites into it.

Just like Dirk used to make.

Lloyd holds out the platter to Mithos. "Take one, they're pretty fantastic!"

"Uh," Mithos says, and hesitates. After... the mess this night has been up until right now, that was kind of the last thing he was expecting. What.

What...

"Okay," Mithos says, finally. He crosses the distance between himself and Lloyd, hesitantly picking a cookie up off the plate. It's still warm, though that's unsurprising, seeing as it's a dream and all. He can't... remember the last time he had a cookie, actually. Probably before--

The dreamspace flickers for a brief moment, weighed down by Mithos' guilt. He pushes it aside quickly, wrenches the dreamspace back into submission, and tries not to think about it. Tries not to think about Anna. Tries not to think about Kratos, moving through his days on autopilot, moving as if he had nothing to live for anymore.

(He's a horrible person, isn't he?)

"Thanks," Mithos says, hoping Lloyd doesn't notice, or at least doesn't ask. His voice is noticeably less bright, his smile weighted down. But he takes a bite of his cookie as he sits down next to Lloyd, and it's... good. Like taking a bite of home. "They are really good," he tells Lloyd, and then he says nothing else.

And they sit in silence until they wake up.

Edited 2019-09-24 03:33 (UTC)

After that whole mess Zelos, for the most part, keeps to himself.

Mithos struck a cord of discordance in Zelos' carefully adapted and tuned mind. He cannot help being tense and restless, but he can avoid being a burden as their travel group presses on and makes distance with Tethe'alla, steadily on their way to the border. Zelos doesn't voice it, tries his damn hardest to ignore it and hide it, but the Aegis' words and presence are like nails digging into his skin, the constant discomfort a reminder of that day under the rain no matter how much time passes.

In his avoidance of it, Zelos tries to play along; he doesn't cause any scenes, doesn't bother anyone outside of normal interaction, feeds neutrality into the emotional link. He keeps quiet at night and offers to take watch more often than not, seeking to be alone with his own thoughts when he's not playing a mental game of chess in his conversations with the others, steering everything away from his mental state. His nerves right now are much like a viper, anyway; coiled and ready to attack if anyone dares come close.

He just needs time, he guesses. Enough time to ignore this and go back to normal, whatever normal even is for someone like him.

Ah.

Time passes, and soon enough the closest Sylvaranti-Tethe'allan border checkpoint comes into view. Though Zelos is uncomfortable with the decision to come here, he bites his tongue and decides not to argue against it; it's logical, anyway, that they'd want to save as much time as possible by pressing onward to Sylvarant, and trying to avoid a checkpoint with their current trajectory will only double the time spent. So, he's just gonna have to sit down and let the humans handle this.

The plan is simple, at first glance: keep the Aegises out of sight, and meanwhile, let Kratos, Anna, and Sheena walk in to provide a distraction and incapacitate the humans inside while guiding everyone else through to avoid detection. Quick entry and exit without any stops.

Simple. Easy.

Fast.

Which is exactly why Zelos' anxiety spikes in his chest when the emotional bleed between him and Sheena goes from taut and busy to completely slack.

The Aegis abruptly rises from where he's sitting, dread pooling in his core as he approaches the only person here he'd trust to understand him--the only other blade in their group whose driver isn't here. "Ah, Malos?" Zelos asks once he's close enough, voice steady, but carrying an open look of concern on his face. He then points at his own core crystal, saying nothing else.

Edited 2019-09-25 17:54 (UTC)

Malos, actually, is doing somewhat worse than Zelos is right now. He's still trying to breathe around the lingering second of blinding panic that hit the emotion bleed like a train, and though that has ebbed to the quiet, gaping void of unconsciousness from both Anna and Kratos, he's pretty sure that's worse. Nevermind the fact that whatever the hell drugs just knocked Anna out are also affecting him, at least marginally.

"Yeah, uh," Malos says to Zelos, who looks worried and rightly so. Guess that's all three of them who got-- captured? Hopefully just that. It doesn't feel like Anna's in pain at least. "Yeah I can say pretty confidently that things just went. Way south on their end. It's not just you feeling that."

Malos swallows. Takes a deep breath. It's-- fine. It's fine. He knows where Anna is. The general direction, anyway. They can fix this.

"What's going on?" Mithos demands, walking up to insert himself into the conversation. Malos sighs, but lets the kid have this. He's got every right to be worried, too.

"Pretty sure the rest of our party just got captured," Malos says.

"What?" Mithos says, quiet, fearful. "No." And then his tone gets distrustful, eyes accusing. "How can you be sure?"

"Well, it feels like they just got sedated," Malos explains, and to his surprise Mithos recoils with immediate horror.

"Kratos too?" he asks, voice tight, kind of high.

Malos nods. Even with Anna unconscious, he's pretty sure he'd still be feeling something from Kratos, and since he isn't, Kratos must be unconscious, too.

"That's- no. Fuck." Mithos rakes a hand through his hair, then immediately turns on his heel and starts heading in the general direction of their family. "We have to hurry," he declares.

"I mean, of course the plan is to rescue them!" Malos calls after Mithos, turning to send a worried glance at Zelos, then one at Lloyd. "Shouldn't we think it through just a little, though? I'm not against heading in there guns blazing and all, but--"

"The last thing Kratos needs is to be caged again," Mithos interjects, firm and clear. "I'm getting him out of there." And then he keeps walking. (Belatedly, that mountain-moving, soul-petrifying panic from earlier is starting to make sense, even if all Malos has is a vague idea of what Kratos has been through.)

"Well," Malos says, slowly, turning again to Zelos, then Lloyd. "I'm gonna assume you two don't have any objections...?"

Even before the full force of horror and concern slams into Lloyd like a wave during high-tide, Lloyd's standing with his hands around the hilts of his swords, following in Mithos' direction to get answers about the sudden reactions from Zelos and Malos. All he has to hear, really, is that the rest of the party got captured before Lloyd's poised and ready to run in and take some fuckers down, but the knowledge that they're sedated and likely tied up brings anger to the surface of a deep level of concern. He knows all of them can take care of themselves, but without even being conscious -

Lloyd follows after Mithos, content to storm in guns blazing, because how dare these kidnappers take not only his parents, but his sister, he's gonna knock some heads together or he'll die trying. "Let's go," he says to Malos, face more serious than ever, the tinny drum of worry and fury backing up the strong beat of his heart. Determination furrows his brow and makes it clear he's gonna give someone a hell of a fight.

(Silently, and without much thought expended in favor of focusing on the coming rescue, Lloyd takes note of "the last thing Kratos needs is to be caged again.")

The situation is dire, sure, and a panicked part of Zelos' mind rattles against his core like a desperate, caged bird, but there's no need to act rashly just yet. Sheena getting kidnapped is already a red flag that harshly tugs at his blade instincts, but it won't take long until the humans realize they've taken a flesh eater and blade eater along as well instead of any other good catch. And even if they could kill Sheena to get at him, since they don't know exactly where the Aegis' core crystal would end up, that'd be completely pointless. Most likely, then, the three of them will be used for ransom. There's not a whole lot of time to waste, but they have time.

That in mind, Zelos takes a few deep breaths while Mithos and Malos argue, trying to calm himself, but then ends up cursing under his breath when the Aegis and his driver walk off on the way to the checkpoint.

No, no-- Damn idiots-- what the hell! They need to plan this out at least a little, lest they too fall victims to these humans! Mithos specifically!

Zelos is just about to let himself give in and walk off behind them when he remembers a very, very important little detail everyone else has completely discarded.

Frustration is a good motivator to make this right. Hands balled into fists, Zelos walks over to Malos. He does his best to ignore the way his own panic echoes and bounces on its own without Sheena's input, expression carefully hidden behind a mask of determination. "You mentioned drugs," the Aegis says to the blade, eyeing him up and down. With Lloyd and Mithos stuck in an idiot feedback loop as they are, they really need to hurry now, but-- "How bad will the side effects be for you? Are you able to walk right now?"

It takes Malos a second to realize that everyone's just walking anyway, and then a second more to realize Zelos is talking to him.

"'M," he begins, blinking the haze out of his mind. He reaches over and flicks himself in the forearm, the pain just enough to be grounding. "Fine," he says. "'m fine. I can walk, at least. Just gonna be a little... sluggish. Won't slow y'all down, promise."

He grins, shakily. "Thanks for worrying about me, though, 'preciate it."

His smile gets a little sharper. Guns blazing is the plan, then? Alright. Time to show Slyvarant what happens when they mess with his daughter.

"Let's go."

Sheena comes to consciousness slowly, the drug still not having quite worked its way through her system. For a minute she just lies there, unable to piece together how she'd gotten to wherever this is or why her body won't quite cooperate when she tries to get up. But then it clicks, the memory of something stinging and sharp sinking into her thigh and then everything going dark, and she curses softly, fighting against the sluggishness in her limbs to sit up, at least, if not to get to her feet.

"Anna? Kratos?" she calls as she pushes herself into a sitting position, squinting out of her cell. She... thinks that's Kratos, in the cell across from her, and that might be Anna, but she can't tell if either of them are awake. Well. Still, you don't throw corpses into cells. That's good.

Alright, she needs to take stock of her own end of things. Not tied up, so there have to be guards, even if she can't see them from here. The weight of her knife in its pocket is gone, and she's sure her smoke bombs won't be there either when she checks, but whoever had searched her hadn't realized her cards are deadlier than the knife ever could have been. No notable injuries, but of course they'd want her alive, at least for now. So long as they don't have Zelos they need her. Speaking of--

She reaches for her bond with him like she should have done the second she woke up, sending - something across it. It's not the clearest, since there's only so much you can express with emotion, but hopefully Zelos will be able to get from the restrained worry-but-not-panic and the inquisitiveness she pushes towards the link that she's more concerned about him than herself. He's okay, right? She's sure she wouldn't even be alive to worry if they had captured him, but there's still a wide gulf between "not captured" and "fine."

Okay, so, waking up in jail? Not even remotely ideal. But Anna's done this a million times before, so she's fine. She's fine.

Except then she remembers what exactly got them here, and the brief but overwhelming panic that had drowned her as it flooded the emotion bleed up until the point Kratos stopped being awake to feel it. Fuck. Kratos.

Anna's eyes shoot open. She's still laying flat on her stomach, one cheek pressed to the cold floor of the cell. She doesn't move just yet, too distracted by her thoughts and her worry. The emotion bleed... feels alright? Maybe Kratos just isn't conscious y--

wait.

wait wait wait oh fuck wait, fuck.

She can't feel Kratos at all.

Is he dead? Architect, don't let him be dead. He can't- he can't he can't he can't be--

"Kratos!?" she calls out, panicked and her throat tight, as she pushes herself upright. She swings her attention around the room, looking, please, let this be some fluke-- There! On the exact opposite end of the hall, three other cells between them, he's there. Anna breathes a sigh of relief, because he's alive, even if... "Kratos...?" she calls again, more hesitant, concerned.

He's still on the floor, looking much like he hasn't moved an inch, his back to her and slumped on his side. She'd assume he was still unconscious, if only she couldn't hear him hyperventilating.

"Kratos, it's fine, we're gonna get out," Anna says, rapidly. "They aren't- they aren't going to hurt you. You know that. It'll be fine."

Silence, but that's to be expected. Of course getting locked up was going to send Kratos spiralling. He probably has bad associations with getting sedated, too. The only thing they can do is get him out of here.

Anna finally drags her eyes away from him, attention landing on Sheena in the cell across from him. She sends Sheena a shaky smile, tight with both concern and anger. Things were going so good until they weren't. "How you doing, Sheena? Hanging in there?"

She takes stock of the cell in the meantime. Small, no bed-- probably meant for short-term holding. Bars obviously aren't far enough apart to slip through, and they're plastic, besides. So, even if Kratos was coherent enough to try something destructive, it wouldn't work. Anna also has no fucking clue how to tell if the lock is pickable, never mind how to pick it even if it was. One of these days she really needs to learn how to do that. For now, though:

"You, uh, got any ideas?" she calls to Sheena, after a moment. "Because I've got about zero. I mean, waiting to get rescued is a valid option but uh..." She hesitates, eyes darting towards Kratos again. He's moved just enough to curl up on himself, and even from here she can tell he's trembling. "Well, the sooner we're out of here, the better.

What comes back across the emotional bleed to Sheena is a mess, frankly - a small sea of not-quite-frantic frustration and annoyance, only broken up briefly when Zelos realizes she's awake. That's probably what it was, at least. The relief is nice to feel, even if it pings a little spark of guilt in her about the situation being this bad in the first place. She sets the link aside, not closing it off but focusing her attention elsewhere for the moment.

"I'm fine," she calls back. "What about you? Is Kratos...?" She's not sure what exactly she's asking - he's clearly not okay, but Anna at least seems to have seen this before.

She presses a hand to the bars, testing as she pulls her gaze away from Kratos and the way his breath hitches his whole body. They almost look like glass, but they're clearly not, the way they feel under her fingers. Getting out through these probably isn't happening. Fuck, she really should have gotten Lloyd to teach her to pick locks before now.

"Me neither," she says, making a face. "But - I think the others might be working on a plan, at least? Or that's how it feels." She punches the bars lightly, unsurprised when nothing happens but feeling a little better about it anyway. "Guess it depends on if anyone comes in to check up on us. Do you still have something to fight with? They must've searched me, but..." Careful, in case they're being watched some way she can't see, she pulls her cards out of her obi pocket enough for them to be visible to Anna. They won't do anything about the bars, but if they can get out, at least she won't be useless in a fight.

"I'm alright, too," Anna answers, first and foremost. Still a little drowsy, but that's either the drugs or... something else. Something she's definitely experienced before but can't remember the name of right now. Oh well. It'll come to her at some point.

For now: "Kratos is..." she begins, and then stops. Chews on her tongue. There's... really no way to explain it without saying too much. Sheena doesn't need to know, anyway. Not if Kratos doesn't want her to. And he's not in a position to be asked, right now. So: "He'll be okay once we get out," Anna says, soft and sad and loving. She hopes his mind is being kind to him, despite the circumstances.

Anna nods along when Sheena offers her opinions about the rest of the party. "Yeah, I have no doubts we'll get rescued," Anna says. "I just hope we aren't bait..." That notion stirs something uncomfortable in her stomach, but she pushes it aside. "Not that it matters. Whatever they're planning, we can handle it." Especially since Sheena still has her cards.

Oh.

Anna hastily pats at her belt but-- of course her dagger is gone. "Fuck," she says, frustrated and sad about that all at once, and it's not like it's the worst thing that's happened today by far, but that was a wedding gift, and. It's fine it's fine. "They took my dagger," she says, for Sheena's benefit. "I mean, I don't need it to hurt someone, but..." It was a wedding gift!!

Actually, though.

"Let me try something," Anna says, pushing herself to her feet. She tugs at her resonance with Malos, a request he'll know the shape of. She wonders if it'll even work across this distance? Might as well try. She fixes her stance, pulls at the ether the same way she always does--

Her skull pounds with backfiring energy. Hissing, she immediately stops trying to summon Malos' sword.

"Fuck," she wheezes, staggering a step back, clutching at her aching head. Her chest hurts, too, right around Malos' core crystal. "That's--" Not a reaction caused by distance. So...? "Oh, fuck. There's not enough ether in here for that, is there?" She can feel it, now that she's thinking about it. Recognizes that's why she feels a little extra out of it. "No wonder Kratos is..."

Well, there being half as much ether in the air could explain some of why Kratos hasn't moved, anyway. Anna prays it's mostly just that, even though she knows it's much more, much worse.

One more thing, then. Anna shakes her head and straightens, rolling her shoulders, sizing up the latch on her cell. It looks way too sturdy for this to work, but assuming instead of testing is for cowards and fools. Anna balances her weight again and then kicks the latch with all her might--

Nope, not that easy. She huffs.

"Damn. Worth a shot, though."

Sheena nods, accepting Anna's word for it that Kratos will be okay if they can get him out of here. This sucks, and her expression makes it clear that she feels that way as Anna continues. She's... probably bait, on some level, given that she's Zelos's driver. Hopefully the others will work that into their plans.

"Mine too," she tells Anna, about the dagger thing. Hers isn't anything special, a Mizuho knife meant more for throwing than anything she actually uses it for, but she's always liked its weight in her hand. "Maybe we can find them on the way out. They've gotta be somewhere, right?"

And then Anna settles in a familiar stance and puts her hand out to summon Malos's weapon, and oh, yeah, fuck, that's a thing Sheena can do, too. She's saved from actually wondering if she should try it as well when Anna stops abruptly, faint wisps of ether around her hand dissipating almost instantly as she staggers back.

"Shit," she says. "Is that going to make it harder for them to rescue us?" It feels a little off now that she's looking for it, but barely, not something she would've noticed on her own.

"Anyway..." she offers. "If they don't figure something out soon, I can try and catch Zelos in a dream, I guess?" Not that she has any idea how to initiate that contact herself, but she can at least try. Maybe if it does take that long he'll have the same idea. "Still... Yeah, hopefully it doesn't take that long." She swallows, looking back at Kratos. If they both reached out she could probably grab his hand, she thinks, but what good would that do, even if he wasn't currently unresponsive? It'd help Lloyd, in the same situation, but Kratos definitely isn't his son, and she'd gotten the impression he wasn't as big on physical contact anyway. From Anna, maybe, but her cell's too far away for that.

"I guess we're waiting for now," she says, in an attempt to sound cheerful that lands somewhere around manic instead, and starts stretching, trying to drive the last bits of sluggishness from her veins. If an opportunity to escape does come up, she should at least be ready.

If the captured half of the party were expecting the rescuers to have a plan, then Lloyd hates to break it to them that they absolutely do not. The front of the building looks inconspicuously boring, with a few guards scattered around and a chain-link fence blocking off any other possible entrance. It looks like they have no choice but to break in through the front, face the guards, and get through them, so Lloyd takes account of who they're facing.

Narrowing his eyes, he amplifies his hearing from the bushes they're hiding behind, listening for any words spoken between the guards that could hint better at the locations of the rest of the party, or even just their cell numbers, anything, but all he catches past the silence is just the beating of his adrenaline-high, furious heart. With the sort of personal anger and murderousness he hasn't felt since before the Tower of Salvation, the worry and concern for his loved ones and Mithos' own mixing in, Lloyd sets his mouth back into a frown and stands. There's no thinking as he calmly walks up to the guards, hands clasped together in front of him.

"No unauthorized entry, kid," one of the guards calls out, watching Lloyd cautiously as he gets closer. There are only about seven guards out at this one moment, Lloyd notes, forcing his expression to soften.

"I'm looking for my family."

"Well, they wouldn't be here," another guard answers, and its as soon as he finishes his thought that two blades find themselves crossed, directly below his neck. He steps back, gasping, as Lloyd glowers at him with all of the fierceness of someone unafraid of any risks.

"Really? Because you took them!" Lloyd shouts, forcing the blades forward and into the man's neck, leaving his body to drop before twirling around to meet the blade of another guard. "And this place is going down today!"

Despite himself, Mithos is a lot fonder of Lloyd right now than he has any right to be. But they're fighting towards the same goal, and seeing Lloyd ruthlessly press towards it? Mithos is glad they're on the same page. His own sword weighs heavy and brilliant in his hands, a chunk of the daytime sky that cleaves easily through one guard, and then another, killing both them and their blades.

Unnecessary violence, one might say, but Mithos thinks otherwise. Witnesses can't speak if they're dead. By the time anyone figures out what happened here, they'll all be long gone.

Mithos wonders, briefly, if it's worth keeping anyone alive long enough to interrogate, then discards the thought. If there's one good thing about blade eaters...

"Malos?" he asks, looking over his shoulder. "Which way?"

"Hold on," Malos says, and he's clearly off balance, still sluggish. (And that's why there's only one good thing about blade eaters.) "Sorry. Ether's pretty thin wherever they've got Anna. I'm okay, but. Feeling it."

Mithos' ether boils, all of his worry and terror sharpening into rage that pounds like drums against his core. How dare they do that to Kratos!?

(His mind helpfully supplies Kratos' reaction last time he was deprived of even a little bit of ether, and all Mithos feels is cold cold cold fury. He pushes it aside. No matter what state they're going to find Kratos in, it doesn't matter, in the end. It doesn't change anything.)

"Then we need to hurry," Mithos says, sharp. "Which. way?"

Malos points, not vaguely, but not exactly usefully, either. A straight line will not get them through walls-- though Mithos isn't exactly against knocking walls down, if they have to.

"Dunno if you want me going first," Malos adds with a frustrated exhale as he lets his arm drop. "Probably gonna be useless against any guards we run into. So. Thoughts?"

"I don't intend to leave anyone here alive," Mithos says. "Splitting up isn't exactly the smartest option, but if I draw their attention..."

He lets that offer hang in the air, and waits.

Well, scratch out actually working out a plan and being careful for the rescue mission, apparently. Mithos and Lloyd are already busy bringing terror to the checkpoint, killing every human on sight, which--that's valid, actually. They deserved it anyway. It's just such a shame that so many blades have to go down with their useless masters.

Zelos walks over to the three others, not even looking down as he avoids stepping over a charred corpse. Couple of brutes, these two, but--fine, then. If no one else is going to think logically here, then it falls to Zelos to do the thinking in the first place.

This is getting bad, actually. Mithos and Lloyd will probably just continue fighting their way in if nobody stops them, and Malos' sluggishness will grow worse the longer Anna stays in the building. He will be pretty useless in a fight, but Mithos is right in that splitting up is a terrible idea considering they have two Aegises here.

But... two Aegises is a whole lot of power to hold in a single, closed space, though. So, sonsidering that...

"Malos doesn't have to fight. All he needs to do is focus on guiding us through the building," Zelos points out. He quickly walks over until he's positioned himself close to Mithos, fighting off the discomfort the proximity brings, and turns his attention to Lloyd instead, gesturing between him and Malos. "Lloyd, you cover for him at the rear. And meanwhile," he gestures between him and the other Aegis, "Mithos and I take the vanguard. We clear?"

It's a really good thing Zelos could come up with a plan that didn't require them splitting up, because the rush of anxiety that brought about in Lloyd was capable of causing his heart to miss a beat, stopping his breath before he was able to check himself again. Splitting up is a terrible idea, always, and has never done anyone any good unless in groups of three or larger.

But it's fine. That's not going to happen. Instead, Lloyd takes a deep breath and nods, allowing the reminder that his family is being held captive push anger beyond whatever stress the idea of splitting up gave him. This isn't about him right now, he'll be fine, they'll all be fine, just a standard rescue mission and then tearing this place to pieces, not giving anyone a chance to get the jump on them again like this. Just guard Malos, keep him safe, and help his family get out of their captivity. Nothing to worry about.

"Alright," Lloyd says, setting a determined edge to his gaze, tightening the grip on his swords. "Can do!"

Malos is still doing: less than okay, but Zelos' plan is good, and they stick to it. He gives directions as well as he can when the most direct route involves going through walls, and doesn't process much else, grateful he trusts his companions enough to let them take care of the rest. If they run into guards, Malos is unaware of it. He thinks he hears fighting, thinks he remembers Lloyd shoving him out of the way once, but it's all in one ear out the other. He's not really conscious of anything other than pull pull pull in his core that tells him where Anna is.

Oh.

"Hold on, hold on," he says, stopping just long enough so he can be certain of the direction of the signal. It's a straight line down the hallway they nearly walked past. He reaches out to grab Lloyd and pull him with, not stopping long enough to let Mithos and Zelos lead like they're supposed to. It's fine, it's fine, the hallway looks empty, and the resonance sings with a closeness that means-- "This way, we're almost there."

He tugs on the resonance for Anna's attention, gets a cautious, hopeful: "Malos??" from his daughter in response. Grinning, he lets go of Lloyd and sprints ahead--

A noise, from behind. Malos spins around and then stops, horrified, when he sees what's just happened. A fortified door coming down from the ceiling has just closed, locking him and Lloyd in here with the rest of the cells, and leaving the Aegises on the other side.

Well, shit.

The plan works out for the most part as they traverse the facilities and dispatch guards, at least, and as such many of Zelos' mind hits the sweet spot of needing to focus on the task at hand instead of wandering off to overthink the situation. Malos' state is worrying, but-- it's fine. He's a blade eater, that's to be expected. And, besides, it's not like Lloyd is feeling ill, either, so by proxy Sheena should be fine. They should be fine so long as they stick to the plan.

And then Malos runs off, pulling Lloyd along as they disappear through a hallway together.

If Zelos had a heart, he's pretty sure that this would be where it stops beating. "Malos!" the Aegis calls out, risking a glance at Mithos before following the blade. He feels cold. Oh, Architect, this isn't happening. This is-- "Malos! Malos!"

Zelos' cries go unanswered, choked out by a loud curse falling from his lips as a fortified door comes down where Malos ran off to. Without really thinking about it, with the resonance between him and Sheena full of unadulterated anger and frustration and fear, Zelos runs up to it and begins punching his fists against it, kicking it, anything. He's losing composure. He needs to think logically, but he can't. He needs to get through this door and see the others, but he can't--

A sound from behind stops him in his tracks, accompanied by the tell-tale feeling of the ambient ether in the room shifting dangerously, held tight and concentrated somewhere. But it feels... sick, not right. It gives him goosebumps. Slowly, Zelos turns around to look at the source.

There, at the end of a hallway and surrounded by several guards, stands a blade holding a glowing staff in her right hand.

This. is. bullshit.

The ether's wrong, but Mithos couldn't care less. He's an Aegis. It doesn't matter to him. He growls something wordless and furious-- And then he really looks at the blade with the staff. Her ether signature's not right, not close, but she... A sharp face framed by green hair, even though the majority of it is tied up behind her head. That might as well be the same face as--

Martel.

It can't be. It can't be. He'd know.

"What kind of sick joke is this!?" Mithos spits, his sword burning brilliant in his hand. He's too furious to be curious, really. Doesn't want for a response before he's already pulling ether out of his own core since the ambient ether isn't responding, gathering energy for as powerful of a blast as he dares. He hopes to level the playing field in one go. Collateral damage to the building doesn't matter. Kratos is behind him. He won't be hurting anyone who doesn't deserve it.

But Mithos doesn't get that far.

The blade that looks like Martel raises her staff. There's a sound like a ringing bell.

The ambient ether shifts, polarizes, clings to Mithos and neutralizes everything he's doing. And then it presses down on him, and he feels like he is choking. He has just enough ether that he's not in immediate danger, but he doesn't have enough to think, and he cannot move. The ambient ether-- the blade's ether presses down on him, down, down, forces him to his knees.

"Wh- what--" he gasps out, terror singing loud and clear in his core, drowning out everything else.

He can't do anything to stop it. He can't do anything at all.

EVERYTHING IS FINE

NO ITS NOT

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TIME TO SKIP ALONG

EVERYTHING WENT TO FUCK AGAIN

WHEN DOES IT NOT THO

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oops

THANKS

WE FUCKEDT IT