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Naian hadn't been looking for a fight - she really hadn't. But the tumult coming from a pizza parlor, of all things, had attracted her attention. And the one thing she'd done lately that she had any pride in at all was craft a weapon...

Yes. There was definitely something to fight here. Though still inexpert, Naian called up her blade and flung herself at the dragon, pointy end first; as she did so, a harsh rage kindled in her, and part of her startled in fear at the intensity of it. A slap of the tail knocked her aside, but she fancied that she'd done some damage nevertheless.

Ok, where's his pizza?

Out of disappointment, there was no pizza...wait! Someone holding a box of good smell pizza came into vision. Hey waiter! He wanted a pizza.

Then, his beam turned completely dark as he slapped the whole thing onto the ground and even more, squished the delicacy with his foot as if it's rubbish.

No mercy.


This was probably the worst foggy figure he encountered. Unlike always, he didn't smile. A foreign anger swallowed him fully as he saw the pizza was ruined. His heart was yelling for "FOOD." Yes. Food. He wanted all the foods.

Food wastage is not acceptable.


He jumped up and thrusted his spear into the figure.

"You. You are the worst. Get out of the party."

He wanted to stab it over and over, the rage was intensified when he looked at the poor pizza box squished, lying alone on the floor. However, the figure was irritated and a mass of fogs surrounded him.

Then -

Memories found its way into his mind.

He loves red, but he enjoyed his green kingdom. Everyday, his favourite task was stealing something and let his fellow Imagineer chased after him. He wagged his tail while holding the potion. Then he pumped into someone and received a fist on his stomach. It was -

Where the other imagineers?

He wasn't belonged to this place, Om was.

Raedala had not explored this particular place yet, but it seemed as though there were many gathering here... And something very intense going on...

And, as she moved in to attack, she suddenly felt very angry about it. There was something dancing on the edge of her memory; a thought, a dream? She had been slighted by this beast, or something like it, and she would take it down. Angry enough to draw Despair, Raedala charged forward.

Upon entering the strange building, a sudden rush of images blinded his mind's eye. Images of an individual who was large and wore clothes one would expect from a farmer of sorts, but he stood in a world of shadows. Shadows that seemed to shift with every blink of the eye. The individual was rushing toward him and he was snapped back into reality. Glancing at his feet, he noticed fog - no, miasma was rolling out from the building.

"What is this..."

As he entered, he saw a familiar figure, dark and draconic, being held by some other being... an armored, winged being who thrusted his hand into the draconian man's chest.

"YOUR MAJESTY!!!"

Looking at his hands, he was looking at himself. He was Uru'baen of the Black Kingdom... a surviving member of the fallen Silver. King Aymet had entrusted him with sabotage and a temporary rank among his followers. He was a shadow, he was Death. And yet he did not recall any of it until this point. His king was dead and his heart - his glowing, red heart beamed with absolute rage.

Clutching his blade, he charged forth at the dragon that inhabited the small pizza parlor.

"RETURN WHAT IS NOT YOURS!"

The Gold King was merely standing in the back of the room, staring out at those that stood around him, a look of mild irritation on his face. It was somewhat liberating to remember who he was and who some of the others were -

- except he could see them as well. The Kings.

He scowled.

"What are you doing here."

The single note made Simmy giggle - even as an alchemist, she knew it took more than one note to make a song. There was a tiny sliver of something that made her feel as if she really needed to correct him on this, but it was two sets of memories to one, and the present won over the past.

Finally.

"Okay! Well, how about..." She scoured what she could remember in search of a song, of anything that might even be somewhat indicative of one, but nothing surfaced. It belatedly occurred to her that she had never thought to ask, only followed and listened. She was quick to defend herself to...herself (which made a lot more sense when the fact that there were several of her rattling around in her head) with the recognition that it was not her job to remember the songs, it was the B...why was she thinking of him? This was getting awkward.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember." She didn't want to think about songs anymore, so she fumbled for something else to direct their conversation to. "But..maybe you could do other things with your mouth!"

Which was not at all what she'd meant to say, intending to sound encouraging to cover up her ineptness, but it sure was out there now. She stared up at him like a deer in the headlights and didn't say another word.

Now it was starting to sting a little. Okay, maybe more than a little, but that did not change that she was still angry enough to keep swinging.