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There were very few things that Kyran liked to do in his spare time, and even fewer that did not include being attached to his iron-fisted twin's every command. He would never admit to it being tiring to tiptoe around every mild inflection, every word used (or lack thereof), but... it was tiring. There was just so much to be mindful of at once, and it almost always backfired anyway. One could only handle so much utter rage before they felt completely drained. It seemed that Kiara felt the same way with Kyran's passive presence and missteps, so it wasn't unusual for her to send him away so that she could be rid of him for a few hours. Sure, it hurt, but at least it made his sister feel better. In the end, that's what mattered; he didn't particularly care about how he felt as long as he could be used as proxy to better his sour sibling's life.

However, when left to his own devices like this, it was often difficult to keep these thoughts straightened out. All he had were his own thoughts to keep himself preoccupied, and he didn't always like what came of it. It was a notion that was certain to be one of the main causes to spurring the darkrai-child into actively testing the waters of his nightmare-inducing capabilities. To counteract having to suffer through his own irritating thoughts, he would dive into others' minds for something more interesting.

Oh, and let's not forget, much more entertaining. Sometimes it was surprising to see what delusions formed from the recesses of others' sleeping minds. They tended to be so exposed this way, there was really no hiding what they were truly afraid of. It was all so fascinating, even if it was one that he had seen many times over. Who knew there were so many pokémon frightened of falling, of sudden flight capabilities ceasing to function? Dreams of being chased weren't inherently interesting, but what they were being chased by tended to make up for that, or how they attempted to escape a fate that was sealed. It was like watching an engaging show on the television, only slightly more real. Silly things, didn't they know that nothing originating from the dream realm could physically hurt them in the real world?

While observing these phenomena was fun and all, today Kyran was a bit more high strung. This was most likely attributed to his recent... what would one call this? Mutation? Transformation? In a sense, it was a growth spurt, but in all the wrong ways. Kiara's flared temper wasn't helping him any, and in his desperation to find solitude on his own and away from his mind, it was possible he got carried away. After all, this was the first time he had ever seen anyone else afflicted by this same happenstance outside of himself and his twin. He was unsure if this sort of thing happened normally or not, but the query wasn't exactly the first thing on his mind when he inevitably entered the girl's mind. She was already asleep, which was a bit of a disappointment but it would have to do.

Tensed nerves from days prior sent Kyran into a more reckless mindset. This strange, unidentifiably-transformed poké-girl had a very intriguing imagination. Kyran found himself almost smiling at the cleverness of transitions throughout the dream, product of a being with a very active imagination. While normally this would make him want to sit on the sidelines to observe how things rolled out, he was much too excitable, as though his insides were emitting electricity throughout his body. Anxiety and stress, however, are apt to do strange things to a person.

While not taking a severely active part in the manipulation of her dream, he participated by borrowing the sight of various apparitions, sometimes nudging some other action to happen instead of what was planned originally. Her frustration with it all was appealing, as though being the puppeteer for once was what he had been craving all along. He was going to have to be careful with that, as he noted that was only recipe for disaster later on. Realizing this, he pulled back from the girl's dream for a couple of scene transitions to reorganize his own thoughts.

Collecting himself once more, Kyran noted the absurdity of the girl's apprehension over a dress. Seemed a bit simple for a dream so elaborate, though the fact that Kyran had been perpetuating and strengthening the visions before did pass as a thought. He frowned when he realized she was choking on something. This scene... it was all wrong. There were too many things going on at once, as though various points along her dream line were being accessed simultaneously. Was she about to wake up? What was stuck in her throat?

He hissed when he realized his abilities were being used without his consent. He had never encountered a reaper cloth before, but it seemed to be in tune with the darkrai and his abilities. He realized with a start that it was the same cloth he had seen wrapped around the girl's head in the real world, of which he had previously written off as some sort of a sleeping mask that the humans wore at times. Was this all a trick? Nobody was more powerful than he was in this world, his playground, and nobody was to make a fool of him in this manner. He may have been naive about the workings of the physical world, but there was only one that was allowed to push him around in the dream world.

The cloth had pulled his form to the place where she had spat it out, and Kyran immediately pulled himself onto the defensive. She had a lot of rage for such a delicate-looking thing, but he had learned long ago to go all out with opponents in the off-chance they were to pull a trump card or two over on him. This train of thought was justified as the girl immediately hurled an unfamiliar move toward the darkrai when he attempted to retreat. Doesn't she know who she's dealing with? he mused to himself, warping the space around him to redirect the blasts that came with her roar. He miscalculated how many explosions were to occur, however, and found his hand singed by a single blast that came a little too close. Wincing, the darkrai shot a Disable move at the girl, knowing the more actual harm that she was inflicted with may very well just wake her up. Kyran, for one, wasn't ready to face reality yet; there was no reason to rush it.

It was rare, nigh nonexistent, that one was able to locate Kyran while he had infiltrated their dreams without revealing himself under his own volition. Rarer still was the occurrence that one made such a foolhardy decision to up and attack the one that had control over the nightmares. He wasn't sure what Ilia hoped to gain from it, or if she had anything else up her sleeve. It felt as though the darkrai wasn't quite comprehending the gravity of the situation despite feeling entirely comfortable and confident in his capabilities while immersed in his element; it was just too much of a convenience. His stare was blank while he studied the odd hybrid before him, as though he could read the necessary information off of her if he just watched her carefully enough. She seemed so confused... did she even have any idea what was going on, either? So all he could do was wing it... Fair enough, he was up for the challenge.

No, he didn't know what her fancy little move was suppose to do other than fire a few blasts his way, but the grave look she gave once she realized her grasp on the reins had slipped was enough to give an indication. So it was suppose to do more than that, eh? Once she vocalized her apprehension, Kyran couldn't help but let her tone jostle a smirk out of him. Anything could happen? But of course, this was a dream! Then again, that seemed to hint that the darkrai would lose some control over where the nightmare was directed. Didn't that make it all the more entertaining, though? He was curious to see what fear and creativity her subconscious held as it was.

The first trick was realizing that it was a dream in the first place. True, he was surprised to see the giant clock railroad its way into the both of them, but he recognized it as a scene transition; it couldn't physically injure either one of them. He hadn't yet realized that he was incapable of leaving Ilia's subconscious if he wanted to, but as of yet, he was not willing to deal with reality anyway. He was intent on seeing this through to the end, for her mind seemed so much more lively than the average pokémon he was so used to infiltrating, that experimenting with escape didn't sound as engaging. As she slipped deeper into her dream cycle, Kyran closely followed suit, remaining stealthy until he was able to scrounge up any further information.

The scene transitioned into one that was much more peaceful. According to the girl whose dreams these were composed of, it was apparently too peaceful. Interesting, this must have been where she lived. He followed along behind an invisible veil, faltering slightly as a wave of dizziness overcame him. He teetered, his single eye still focused on the dream itself as his more humanesque right hand rose to rest on his head. That was... weird. What exactly was it that her previous move was suppose to do? It almost felt as though the strings he were pulling were snapping, one by one, in slow succession. Maybe he shouldn't stick around for the entirety of the nightmare, after all... he'd consider that point in a while.

Through his disorientation, Kyran hadn't realized Ilia had been trying to wake up from what she had perceived as a dream until she had attempted it a couple of times. While he would have tried to stop her had he known, the fact that he didn't have to unnerved him. Either she was subconsciously trying to stay under despite her own protests... or something else was keeping her here. While he was able to grasp at bits and pieces of the situation as a whole, he was incapable of stringing the information coherently together, not with what little knowledge he possessed of that which was outside of experience.

Before he had any inclination to pull away, he found himself on the other side of the doors, the centerpiece to where the hybrid girl was investigating. He hesitated momentarily before scooting back to sit upright, quickly attempting to apprehend a logical conclusion. Kyran wasn't the one that Ilia had been so sure she'd find in this spacious building... so she wasn't controlling her nightmares, either. At least, not altogether consciously. She sure was a noisy thing, Kyran almost didn't want to dignify her hollering with a verbal response, opting to stare at her indifferently instead. Tendrils of shadow flickered as though it were a living flame, a reaction to stress and irritation, but he realized quickly that it was not Ilia that he was annoyed with, she just wasn't making things any easier. His tone came flatly as he spoke to her for the first time, "I could ask the same of you. If I'm here, it means you wanted to find me here... or someone else wanted you to." It seemed the most likely solution.

Glancing around the building's inner structure, Kyran attempted to see if anything else in the room seemed out of place. Ilia was panicking, but Kyran's tone remained indifferent, as though he were keeping himself as emotionally detached as possible; maybe it wasn't so hard for him, a fringe outcast. "Settle down, you're still dreaming. The pain is an illusion created by your subconscious to make it more vivid," he explained, remaining seated as he continued to scan the area. He was almost afraid that telling her this would cause her to realize it and wake up, but he wasn't so sure he wanted to stick around any longer, not with so many other unknown variables at play.

Kyran watched Ilia for a few moments longer. In any other place, he likely wouldn't have been able to catch her mention her inability to hear him. In any other instance, he also likely would have been trying to help her overcome the bindings the nightmare had on her, but that's just what this was -- a nightmare. Reality was different, but this wasn't true suffering. She'd likely even forget everything seconds after waking up anyway, so why go to all the effort? Callousness, it seemed, came easy to the darkrai when it suited him. It was less problematic to simply push back. Regardless, the hybrid girl couldn't very well hear his instruction on the matter, so it was a practice in futility. He never noticed the appearance of the reaper cloth over her eyes, seated at an awkward angle from her enough to obscure it from his immediate view.

Observing the integrity of the walls surrounding the current dream, Kyran noted that things seemed to be stabilizing. The rapid and random alteration of scenery would likely not occur anymore, at least for a while yet. That usually signified the latter part of an REM cycle, where the synapses allowed one to sink into a deeper, more restful sleep. Dreams were usually void of such a state of mind, but nightmares tended to stave off restfulness from occurring in the first place. Maybe she was used to the nightmares... but she surely didn't act like that was the case, with her bouts of panic and trigger-happy tendencies for battle in a fit of surprise. The dream wasn't fading, though; no, it actually felt more stable than it should have been. Kyran may have been privy to lucid dreaming, but this didn't feel right at all; it didn't feel natural.

He wasn't about to act recklessly, though. While Ilia was still preoccupied by her figments -- similar to a night hag, it appeared -- Kyran took the opportunity to scope the place out a little better. Nearing the back wall, he lifted a hand to test the solidity, immediately discovering how sturdy it was. He pressed harder in an attempt to see if he could phase through it, but returned without the desired outcome. I was afraid of this, but... how? Taking a brief glance back, the shadow-child noticed that Ilia seemed to have passed out; he hadn't been paying full attention to the struggle, but this bit of information sent a shiver down his spine. Had she really passed out? If she did, why didn't she wake up?

There did not need to be any further proof: despite never encountering something of this magnitude before, Kyran knew that she was being held under by some outside force.... and, by extension, he was as well. He was not able to do this sort of thing under his own volition unless he hit a stroke of luck, but he hadn't been aiming to do that. With his abilities, it was possible that Kyran would cause the girl to become fully incapacitated in her sleep, simply by being within proximity of her. Sleep states always bit off another's health while around the darkrai, but he tended to avoid causing full-on fainting if he could help it. Did someone want her incapacitated so badly that they would go to such extent?

He jerked away from the wall once Ilia coughed awake once more, slowly turning to face the blindfolded girl. She definitely knew more about the situation than she wanted to let on, and even in her efforts to explain in a manner that ended up side-stepping explanation anyway, it reeled Kyran toward irrational distrust. She even remembered he was here, despite the transitions cluttering her mind. It wasn't right, and in his confusion he was quick to erect the emotional barriers. However, he tried to linger more on his own curiosity so the frustrated fear-fueled anger didn't grab hold of the wheel.

Kyran's steps were slow as he walked closer, slightly amused at how sure Ilia sounded of herself. She must have gotten her information from some outside source, considering the mind was such a flimsy and unexpected mess of detail that one needed extensive access to gain a general idea of how it worked. Kyran frequented others' minds and still could only grasp generalizations, so who was it that Ilia had as a contact that had similar experience in the field? He offered a wicked smirk as she tried to predict how he would react to her words, but he was only studying how she was taking things. Scare tactics, eh? Perhaps two could play at that game... "You seem to be having a lot of trouble. What happens if I just allow you to die here? It would not adversely affect me at all, you realize," he stated, coming to a stop to study her a bit longer, "I am not someone to be trifled with. One does not just 'trick' me and feel they can get away with it without consequence."

As morbid as it was, he couldn't help but be entertained by how easily the words came to him in his own insecurity of the whole ordeal. He meant every word of it, even if he wasn't much the vindictive type. As long as she got it through her head... but he really had no reason not to believe her, all things considered. She was near death, somehow, and that alone was enough support behind her strained words. Even if it was just to help her survive... "Don't order me around, and you might actually get a more positive reaction," he growled, twitching a clawed hand before catching the blindfold's knot with it and sliding it from her eyes, "The arrogance and manipulative coercion is unbecoming. Remember that."

To say that Kyran had not expected the visions that had come to him to have occurred upon the accidental slip of a finger would have likely been the single most understated assertion possible. It would, however, not been out of the question with how little the boy would allow himself to show outwardly, but it nonetheless had affected him in some manner or the other, that much was obvious. He took a few steps back, away from the sleight figure of the girl, now upright and much more aware of her surroundings. She seemed relatively untouched, as far as the cracked and disfigured timeline was concerned. In fact, her tone sounded near taunting.

Regardless, Kyran maintained the unruffled appearances of his own. He had relatively little attachment of his own, after all, so much of what he was forced witness to was surprisingly easy enough to shrug off -- at least, that was what he told himself. His own emotions, opinions, they scarcely mattered, especially if they blinded one to the consequences at stake. Inwardly, he took a few more steps back from the situation in an attempt to safeguard himself from the risk of becoming too wrapped up in a cause he had no way of controlling. He was not meant to play the puppet to another grand scheme, regardless of what perceived 'side' he was on.

He stood his ground, attention paid the most as conduit for observation. Look, but don't touch. "The fate of the world matters little," he proceeded, fingers wrapping around the Reaper Cloth that was still in his hand. Why care about a world that had long since banished him and his sister from it anyway? Fear may have spurred the normal populace toward extreme measures to prevent whatever they felt was a threat, but that was little motivation for Kyran. Who really knew, death could possibly even be a blessing -- he sure wasn't ruling it out, but he was far from resisting fighting for his own survival, from what little was familiar to him.

He took his eye from Ilia to investigate what she was calling a link. He'd never been a part of something so strange. Shared dreams, yes, but this was entirely different, and he had no power of control here. Kyran wasn't understanding the point to any of this. All he managed to gather were the implications and consequences if action was not taken in order to prevent it, but what was the cause in the first place, and why did this girl want to be some sort of corrupted superhero? Either way, there was always the possibility he was being played, and the lack of answers were not helping him feel secure in how this was going down.

Kyran was not ignoring any of it, but he was processing everything in silence. If she expected him to follow orders without any explanation, she was sorely mistaken. "Why create a new world? What would doing something like that solve?" It was merely another playground for someone else to destroy, or control -- really, the two worked hand-in-hand anyway.

Despite the front, the carefully placed personal roadblocks, Ilia was still quite perceptive, it seemed. Even something as simple as a hug, a little understanding, conveyed quite a bit, and it left Kyran faltering with his guard, the action unprepared for. Touch of any kind was usually out of harsh reaction, not comfort, and it left him quite a bit more confused. Had he projected anything unintentionally that led her to believe she needed to do this, or was she assuming as much? It didn't appear, from the look in her eyes, that she was grasping at straws, and Kyran tried to slacken the walls he had so forcibly built on the spur of a moment. Either way, it probably wouldn't hurt him to help out in whatever she was trying to prevent. Let her play her game... "So, then... who are you the pawn of, exactly?" the darkrai inquired, trying to make out the surroundings to gain any further knowledge that he could. If they were infiltrating a dialga's sleep from who-knows-how-far-away, whose will was it to do so?