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Home.

The fog rose up around him, pressing against his skin as though it were hungry, and all he could do was watch. Watch, as shapes moved within the fog, a sound like a roar ebbing into a whisper and then nothing at all, as the fog slipped beneath his skin and began to pull him apart. The voices crooned within his skull, a sweet somber soprano of one singular word, homehomehome.

He could see the door, see the movement, see the bodies going closer and closer still. And his heart pumped soundly in his chest, a reverberating and chaotic noise that told him to move. But he couldn't. His legs felt as though they'd been frozen, and a knife was hot beneath his skin. It felt as though it were carving the flesh from his bones, eating away at an existence that all at once seemed unnecessary if not searching for home. And even as he was pulled apart, pulled into fragments, into nothing at all, the voices ebbed together, all around him, crushing up against what little was left.

Home. Home. Home. Please, go home.

Senga felt the rest of his fragmented body pull apart, but none of it mattered anymore, nothing mattered except for the haunting, hollow word scarred into his head.



Yes, it was time to go home.

[ exiting! ]

Alone. Oh Jack, he was alone. Nothing by him or near him to anchor himself in this realm, nothing to stop the creeping mist. The zomboil tensed and girt his teeth against the urge to cry out as the aching loneliness began to grow within him again, shambling this way, shuffling that, each try growing less and less energized as his vision grew white -

- figures everywhere, ill-formed and moaning in unison, pulling, raking, grasping, all for Home, Home -

Voices. He heard voices, but they sounded muffled, far away. A few sounded familiar, but the fog was erasing names from his mind, erasing the very landscape even until all Mort saw, heard, tasted, felt, knew, was grey. And for a moment a strong burst of panic went through him, but that too was soon eased into neutrality, rooted him to the spot with its finality and certainty in its promise for something far better. What was there to panic about?

Nothing. There was nothing. He didn't remember anymore, and he didn't want or need to. All there was was Home.

A chill began to seep into him as new voices were heard, whispers and growls from the mists that told him there were those gathering who didn't want him to go Home, and as everything began to blur together Mort understood what his purpose had been all along. He had never been alone after all.

And as the greys began to turn to white, as his way began to be shown so clearly, he realized something: Home was where he had always belonged, what he had always longed for, and what would fulfill him at long last when no-one else could.

And nobody would stop him from getting there.

(( Exiting ))

Sherry turned, here eyes trying to find something in the fog. It swirled, whites layered on grays, and from time to time she would think she saw something. Like right there! A figure--

"WHAT?" --And a voice clear as day. Someone real?

The fog swirled again, and this time, Sherry could see something else. A doorway.

[EXIT]

Aymet followed the sound of the voices, but it led him nowhere. He landed again with a thump and clank of armor. He was sure they hadn't been illusions. They had to have been right there. He heard them!

Then he noticed the way the fog was starting to move oddly. Pieces of it were swirling away. Coalescing. Up --

He shouldn't have looked.

Above him towered Mort. Or, what was left of him. And just as suddenly it - he - was gone. Just like Amrita and Ash, just like the phoenix, just like the Horsemen Islands right before they had crumbled into the sea. Aymet had never paid the insanity much mind before. It had always seemed like such a secondary threat, if anything. And now... all of his friends were being consumed by it, one by one. The ones that should have been out of danger. The ones that should have had protections. The ones that had never even shown the signs, or maybe he was just too distracted to see them.

The world around him had returned to a faded white, even as he stared at the empty spot where Mort had been. He felt hollow right down to his bones and through the crystals housing his essence. He had sworn to protect Amityville, time and time again, but every time the danger seemed to up the ante. Only a coward would run away from this, even if it was a nightmare. He couldn't just leave his friends like this. Mort - Amrita - there had to be a way to get them back...

And... and if not...

His claws brushed over an insignificant blue crystal embedded in his armor, only a shade darker than the others, a piece of himself waiting to lend him power when he needed it most. To do whatever needed to be done.

Lihua had no idea where she was or how she got there. She didn't remember going to an haunted house on her own account.

Or did she really did go to this haunted house? Everything was so confusing to her. She couldn't have come here on her own will she hated haunted houses.

Not only was the haunted house a problem for her but she couldn't see. Nothing but fog.

Would think being of the water like she was she would be to see or not care about fog that much. But no. Fog meant something was out there in it that she can't see waiting for the opportunity to attack.

Silence was terrifying. With no sounds to snap up her attention and no one to chatter to, Jay was left wrapped in silence. It was too easy for the warrior to find an activity to fill her time. It was how she coped with things—don’t think about the things you don’t want to think about by filling your time and thoughts with something else. But there was no way to avoid the painful thoughts creeping into her head. She tried to hold herself tighter, but instead she found herself twirling and un-twirling the wraps around her arms while she continued to drudge through the fog on her own. As she called out a second time, her voice came out timid and unsure, “Is anyone there?”

Somewhere, the fog parted to reveal a dark figure. Jay craned her neck forward to scrutinize the silhouette as it unfurled its wings. Hope lit up her face and she darted forward as the outline grew more familiar. “Sen—?” A howl. A howl that filled her body with trepidation as she sensed what was going to happen. Lips twisted into a scowl as she snarled, reaching out for him. The body was pulled apart, disappearing into the mist before smoky pieces suddenly coalesced together to form a new container that was vastly different from the last. The angry screamed died in Jay’s throat as she came to a sudden halt and stared at the pale glow of yellow before the creature melted into the fog again. She opened her mouth to try to echo her friend’s name, but nothing came out.

Move. Years of experience surged forward, urging the bluejay to take a heavy step forward, but her body stayed still and numb. She should have seen it coming as soon as she saw the streaks of grey crawling across his skin, but had deluded herself into believing it would be fine. The infection wouldn’t spread. It couldn’t because it was Senga.

A pitiful whine escaped her lips as she took a trembling step. The strength left her legs and she crumpled to the ground, her head hanging between her legs while she covered her head with her arms. “Iyari….Iyari I need you,” she croaked out.

“…Somebody.” Silence.

She lifted her head. “SOMEBODY ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW.”

"And an answer you shall receive."

There was the quickest flash of red and purple, of a translucent feather backing brushing against the frightened horseman. The faintest brush of Aisa's fingers on Jay's shoulder, a finger against her lips to silence her pitiful whining. Horsemen did not whine, as they were not such a timid race. Aisa's posture was crooked, bending low to peer into Jay's expression.

There were no questions on the situation because it could all be explained in a fleeting thought. Even Aisa, in a self-conscious motion, pressed her fingers lightly at the curve of her neck, appeasing the raging flurry inside of her.

She couldn't yet tell if Senga was fortune or unfortunate in this scenario of terror.

For the briefest second, Jay didn’t believe she would receive a response. The last two had yielded nothing. Why should the third time be any different? As soon as the crackled cry left her lips, she moved to bury her face once more, but a response from the mist startled her. She looked back up in time to see the protector decked in purple and red. She pursed her lips together when she felt the other’s hands brush against her shoulders and lips, urging Jay to keep quiet.

Normally, she would have gladly stared back into Aisa’s eyes, but instead she kept her eyes cast to the side while she ran a hand through her loose, long hair. “Thank you,” she murmured quietly. Her lower lip jutted out as she forced herself to stand back up. The horsewoman’s pride as a warrior refused to let the protector see her pitifully crumpled to the ground, but her wings still protectively curled around her like a security blanket. “Thank you for answering.”

She pursed her lips. “What’s going on? I can’t see anything,” hissed Jay.