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Poisoned at a royal ball...?

Executed a spy in the Kingdom...?

It didn't take her long to draw parallels between his memories and hers: the Prom where he fell to pieces and she protected him, that time so long ago they argued for the death of a caught Hunter...they were different, yes, but they were so close... She opened her mouth to speak, to demand his silence, anything to stop him from taking shared memories and twisting them, but she couldn't say a word. He continued on, a voice she respected and admired telling her things that nobody had ever told her before. Her hands slid up her own arms, holding herself as he confessed a love for someone she paralleled, but who never really existed.

All the confusion, the uncertainty, the anger, the resolve that was beginning to shatter...all of it condensed suddenly, defense mechanisms kicking in to protect her from feeling the way she was at this exact moment. Nothing else existed; Nevena and Merope weren't there, Sun wasn't in her line of sight. All there was, was this fake Aymet. She grit her teeth, and then exploded.

"NO, stop it!" She cried out, her arms unfolding quickly, her hands flying to cover her ears. "Don't you dare twist our memories!" Amrita swung at him. Clumsy, Angry and Confused.

[[Enter]]

After awakening in her former kingdom Azmodel came back to the battlefield. Something had changed here, namely a tower that wasn't there before. Or maybe it always was, hidden behind the illusion of the sky.

Anyway the former Death arcana felt compelled to go to it, and she knew the Voice was there so she did not resist. She wanted to see the one who had created this masquerade of an existence for them.

As she reached the Tower the ghoul hesitated for a while. Had she done all she had to? All loose ends tied? And what became of her "King?"

Surveying the battlefield she spotted the one who had supposedly created her. He was moving towards the Tower, slowly but surely, so she would go in. He would either die here or go in, she no longer felt compelled to protect the Shadowlord.
And when she saw the guy she had been fighting against go in she just followed.

[[Exit to first floor]]

Even in his weakened state, the King managed to move just out of harm's way, practically a dance. As if he had seen such attacks before, a hundred hundred times.

"You remember!" he observed, and he seemed genuinely surprised. "She is not gone then, not yet, not completely. Poisoned, corrupted, but still there-"

"All that I am, is the desire to become the True King, and receive the reward I am owed. The Voice has promised unto the True King their heart's desire." He seemed almost reverent as he spoke, moving close to Amrita. Even after all of this, he still believed in the Voice, insofar as he believed that nobody, not even a disembodied voice of power, would dare to cheat him. He was Revenge, after all. "I know what I want."

Aymet lunged. They fell together, Amrita's back to the wall, and the veil was torn aside. For one long moment his lips were locked against hers, stifling any objection she might have made. His hand trailed roughly along her face and through her shadowy hair, another sliding around her waist. As long as his eyes remained closed, he could almost believe it was still her.

He drew back, and in that space of breath he leaned close to her ear. Four words whispered, to the Amrita he loved. "I will save you."

And then it was gone, like a flame extinguished. The Shadow grew cold again, unwound himself from her fragile form, and turned toward the door and his destiny. His salvation from madness.

"My tower is fallen, my soldiers scattered, my court warped into abominations-" With his renewed conviction came supernatural strength, berserk. Amrita and Sun stood in his path, and he pushed them aside, one into the other. "But I still survive! Hear me, Voice, I am the True King!"

Aymet dodged toward the stairs and up out of sight in a blur of shadow, a trail of black blood in his wake.

(( EXIT TO FLOOR 1 ))

[ Enter ]

The Chariot... no, that wasn't his name. Not anymore.

He was tired. Sick and tired of this. ALL of this.
Even as the voice spoke, he paid no attention.
His eyes glazed over a pair of shadows, and one with a crown.
The... shadow king?

No, he didn't care anymore. That wasn't his king, he wasn't his subject. None of this was even freaking REAL.

Though try as he might, he couldn't ignore the calling, and felt himself drawn in.
The Voice.
Was this... just an illusion? Was none of it real?
He had to know, he had to find out.

On his way toward the stairs, he caught sight of a familiar... or was it familiar?
Somehow, he felt like he had seen...
No, it didn't matter. He had to reach the top.

If she were looking, she would notice he shot a quick glare her way before heading up the stairs.

[ Exit ]

Sophie landed a short distance from the King. She stared at him as he pleaded with them. A truce of sorts? And what would happen when they reached the top and the Voice backed up what they had been screaming at him since the battle began? Would he accept his fate and allow them to end his existence in this world; to return the fragment back to the eternally sleeping Mort? She bit her bottom lip; they could end it now. Couldn't they? Assuming the Voice didn't have any tricks up its sleeve.

She didn't have time to object, however. Because Mort had made his way up the stairs onward to the next floor. She cursed and sent Esuna away, making her way for the stairs to follow him.

[exit]

Standing around and staring was not going to get her anywhere. Obviously. So, Sherry further into the tower, since she very clearly needed to go up.

She almost missed the glare someone shot her. Almost. Huh. That looked remarkably like the shadow that she'd...but that was just silly.

And it didn't matter. She had things to do.

[EXIT]

((entering))

Bastion remembered now. That sickening feeling he'd gotten when he realized the woman in his arms wasn't Mjoll. He understood, all too well, now. And she was right - in the end, he wished he hadn't. But on the plus side, it didn't hurt anymore.

If neither he, nor she, were real, then what love was there to mourn over? The only chance he had was to steal that life from that guy he'd been made from.. and start up anew.

That sounded better than anything he could have ever wanted in his entire life, at that moment.

He followed that pull, and headed for the tower.

((exito))

[ Enter ]

Mayaa trembled as the Voice spoke and looked up at the tower.
It was both beautiful, and terrifying.

Once a silver, and a silver once more, she walked in, mesmerized, both curious and terrified at what she might find at the top.

[ Exit ]