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"The goddess asks, I answer."

He closed his eyes as he felt her whisper, her touch, her command.
Build the wall, build it higher. From it you will find shelter.

And so he obeyed, following the others as they brought back materials to build up the wall, and as he salvaged through the items, his hand rested on a sole object.
Sticky and hard, yet it seemed quite study, he smiled as he picked it up, certain that such an object would help contribute to the wall. And so he lifted it, hand running along the surface of the wall until he found an opening, perfect for the brick in his hand. And so he lifted it, higher, and higher, and-

SMACK

He was panting, chest heaving as the brick was clenched tightly in his fist, dripping with blood, wincing slightly blood and bone pelted his helmet, bits of flesh sticking to the plastic. The blood trickled down from his helmet to his face, blurring his vision as it seeped into his eyes.

He didn't care. They were going to kill him anyways. They all were. That was... if he let them.
No, he would kill them first

The sound of the ocean tide crashing into the shore made him jolt, the sound deafening and then... nothing. Something else. Another scene.

A dark alleyway, he was panting, breathing heavily. His hand pressed against a wound that was gushing blood. It was deep, but not fatal, yet every step he took wracked his whole body with pain, making him want to cry and crumple up, to give up, to give in. It would be easier, wouldn't it? They lied to him. They betrayed him. They said they would help him, protect him, keep him safe from the others, and yet, who was it they were protecting him from?

They called him a demon, an abomination. A creature that didn't deserve to live. But was he not one of them? Did he not look like them? He had two hands, two feet. His blood was red. His heart beat just like theirs. So why was he so different? Why did they hate him so? Why was he the one who had to die?

He was tired of running, tired of being used.
With a new-found resolve, he stopped, grip tightening on the wound staining his shirt. He would no longer trust, no longer allow himself to be vulnerable. All he needed was himself. He was the only one he could rely on, and no one else. If they wanted to kill him, so be it. He wouldn't back down anymore. He wouldn't lose.

He would fight back.

The sound of stone scrapping of stone made him jolt once more, and this time, the bricks shifted, forming a pair of arms, wrapping around him. Fear, adrenaline, horror rushed through him.
It was happening again. They were going to betray him.

But the voice that came was soft, soothing.

"You don't need that, you're safe now. You never have to trust in anyone"

He tensed as the arms wrapped tighter around him.

"Except me. As long as you trust in me, I'll keep you safe."

Was that true? Could he trust her? Would she really not betray him?
As the arms retreated, the memory he recalled slowly faded too, and with that, the wall he had built up came crumbling down, while the Wall grew in strength, and he felt calm, at rest.

Yes, the Wall would protect him. It would keep him safe.
He would always be able to trust in the Wall.

Breuse dutifully followed the instructions of the Goddess. After all, he had seen enough monsters around, and if this was what was the best, what else could be the worst? What if everyone would be placed into danger because they didn't do their part and let the wall fall?

He picked up a strange plastic object. Maybe it wasn't something that would fit perfectly, but there was just something about it, and it flooded him with a feeling of safety when he touched it. His fingers brushed over a button and the light flickered on, and the brightness grew and grew, until it enveloped him entirely.

And then, darkness. And yet it was warm, his covers pulled up over his face. He felt his heart thumping and bit back a gasp as a weight sunk down on his bed. No. He thought. No no no no no...

There was a derisive laugh and his blanket was yanked away, and he stared up into a terrifying grin--

No one here was real.

The stark realization of it hit him, and he realized, at that very moment, that the King was a mere shadow of his brother, and he had to kill him so Thackery would awaken from his coma. Everything was cold, and his heart hurt with the realization... how could he kill someone that looked so much like his brother? How could he kill someone that talked and laughed like him, even if it was to save his life-- how....

"It only frightens you, it only makes things worse. Let me take it from you, that feeling...that time..."

The warmth pulls his fear away from him and Breuse found himself breathing normally again, with no recollection of the matter.

The wall loomed before her, huge and imposing. Impossibly solid, but they were tasked to rebuild, to strength, to fortify. The wall was important. It kept them at bay.

She didn't understand this, but she didn't have to. The Goddess had called to her, and she had answered, and now she stood before it with small fingers wrapped loosely around a ratty bouquet of dried flowers, somehow untouched by this world and it's monsters and biting rain.

She looked down. The flowers were fresh, the hands holding them were not her own. She did not know who Ben was..

Tires spun uselessly on the ice, and a woman was yelling to a pair of small girls buckled into the backseat to hold on. The eldest hadn't needed the prompting, she'd thrown an arm out to hold the younger against the seat as they began to spin, car going out of control.

It happened so fast. They spun off the road sideways, and when tires met snow the car began to flip, rolling violently down the ditch until coming to a stop upside down against the thick trunk of some tree.

Astrid was sobbing, thin, high voice coming in deafening sobs. It mingled with the sound of the horn as it blared into the cold, January night. There mother wasn't moving.

Minutes pasted, and the older child could only wait, dangling from her seat belt, Tiny hand clutching at Astrid's. She wanted to yell at her sister to shut up, but she didn't. It was impossible to expect the little girl to quiet down after what they'd been through.

She wanted to call out to their mother, but she didn't do that either. One arm was dangling down limply. There was no sense of movement at all. It was impossible to expect their mother to respond when she was...

The soft brush of hands over her arms jerked her away from the memory and she stared up at the face of the goddess with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Take it away," she pleaded, clutching at those embracing arms as soothing words drifted over her. "Take them away.."

They were gone.

She was staring at the wall, a bouquet of ratty, dried flowers in one hand. Hollowly she reached out and pushed the brittle stems into a fissure before she reached up to touch her cheeks as something wet and warm slid down them. "Why am I crying?" She couldn't remember.

Wiping at the tar tracks she turned to go, giving the Wall one final , nervous look.

The Wall was importing. It kept them at bay.

"...build it higher. Take whatever you can find and build. The Wall is safety. Terrible things await you, only the Wall keeps them at bay."

The Wall. It was enormous and tall, just like about to hit you in face. Some figures were working on it, it's mainly made of stones and bricks.

She looked around for possible material to add onto the wall, A bouquet of dried flowers silently sitting at a dark corner caught her attention.

Where to put it?

She scanned through the wall and finally saw a prefect hole. She raised her head just to find she was looking into the eyes of a nervous man. She was careful and made a suggestion. No. It was someone else, but it's just like she was doing it. Weird.

"Tell you what, Ben. You can help me with my button pushing thing. And then I can go with you on your mission, and help you with your looking around thing. Sound good?" She realized she was flirting with that man which was nearly impossible to happen. However, that "she" wanted the love from the man, she knew it.

You look down at your desk, but it's been replaced by an operating table. A familiar face stares lifelessly up at you amid the various remains. You smile wryly at him and then pick up the scalpel. You deserve this. You never could hold on to anything good.

Scene changed to an operation table, she seemed to be the one who preformed it, however, "she" was so happy about it. Odd.

She felt helpless, she felt alone, she couldn't find the way home. Where's her home? She didn't want to fight, she needed someone to hold her tightly. She was at despair. - Then, she felt a warm source near her, just like the sun after raining, warm and cozy. It was the goddess.

"Such a terrible thing," she whispers in your ear. "You don't need such pain. Not anymore. Not ever again."

It was convincing and secured, the promise.

Really? Really she don't need to be afraid now?

The flowers were given lives again, in the goddess's hand. It was like a miracle. The promise was so convincing.

She didn't notice when the goddess disappeared, she was just grateful.

A sense of warmness and safety within her.

She believed with the goddess, she will be fine.

He had begun in the Ruins, and the Ruins would always be his favorite location. There were a myriad of things for him to sift through. Perhaps the crumbled remains bored many, but Ikait found them still interesting. But now he heard gentle whispering. The Wall.

The Wall?

The shadow searched for the goddess’s figure cutting through the fog, but only found a thick blanket of white. He found it odd how he had never totally noticed the Wall until now, but he couldn’t notice everything. He was bound to pass over things. That was a given. Naturally his mind filled up with silent inquiries carefully filed into the back of his meager memories. When had the Wall been built? What was the Wall protecting them from? What would he build with? He could have mulled the questions over for eternity, but the goddess had urged him to build, so he would build.

As he neared the Wall, he could see figures walking from all directions, dragging in items and materials if all shapes and sizes. If he looked up, he could even see a few shadows scaling the structure to patch up the holes. Ikait hummed thoughtfully.

Standing at the base of the Wall, he felt small, a meaningless speck in the entire world. He blinked, pushing down the feelings bubbling up inside of him. He had to build, but with what?

He walked around the area few times, but eventually he found a brick. Out of everything he had seen so far, it seemed like the most logical thing to build the Wall with. His face blank, Ikait picked it up. It was heavy, but not enough to make his walk back to the Wall a struggle. As he adjusted his grip on the piece, he realized the outside was a bit sticky. It wasn’t perfectly smooth; it had a few lumps. But as soon as he saw a section comprised of bricks, his face lit up and he walked over. He took a few moments to locate an open spot, and smoothly slid the brick in. It fit perfectly.

SMACK!

The helmet cracks loudly as he brings the brick down a second time; no remorse, no emotion. This is necessary. He winces when they begin to scream, so he throws the brick again. The shouts stop with a loud boom. Silence. Peaceful, calming silence. Something wet and heavy falls against him, sliding down his helmet with a sickly squish. He reaches up to wipe the remaining pieces away without flinching. He flicks away the flesh and blood with a stoic calm. His movements are clinical and efficient as he straightens his posture.

His feet sink into the sand as he walks toward the ocean. He blinks away splotches of red. There is no pain or regret in his heart because he knows it was either him or them. It was survival of the fittest. Survival theory. To die now would be a shame. He sucks in salty ocean air while the tides scream louder. Trusting and distrusting and betraying were all too normal now.

Stone scraping against stone sent him back to the present. Eyes grew wide and blank as arms emerge from bricks, wrapping him gently yet heavily. His lips parted slightly, questions dying on his lips. How could she be so sure? Was he really safe? What was outside? What…

Safety. He clung to the word.

He sighed, shoulders relaxing.

An odd feeling has lodged itself somewhere in the space between Annabell's ribs, curled up tight against the bone right above her stomach. It is small, but uncomfortable enough that she cannot seem to forget about it. Not wanting to explore what it could mean, the girl seeks distraction, she craves finding new emotions, so she is immensely pleased to find a Goddess has another task for her.
Having not noticed the Wall previously, the girl pauses to study it, her eyes bright and curious as they roam over the structure, seeking out uniformity, glancing over holes, marveling at its height, and vastly intrigued by its constant need for improvement. The figures that work seem as inconsistent as the thing they build, a curious anomaly but which provides no real cause for alarm. Not when actual monsters roam the world and this wall seeks to protect.

And Annabell has been invited to help build.

There is a deep need to protect that has rooted in the girl, fed by all the terrible creatures she has fought. It overtakes the odd feeling under her ribs, banishes it and makes her move over to the little pile of materials. They are mismatched, the only that should belong is the brick. But her hand does not touch that. An instinct she cannot quite figure out moves her hand to the flowers. They are dry and brittle in her grasp, they crackle when she moves to the wall. But they fit perfectly in the little beaker, they look sweet, just like the eyes staring into hers. They flick away a moment later, a nervous action that makes the girl giggle. She flirts with the eyes, an effortless task for it is something she is good at. It is something she has spent years perfecting.
But she hasn't spent years honing her ability to hold onto anything good, onto what she wants, so that when she looks up to see her hand outstretched toward a ceiling and feels the deep sorrow weighing her down on the floor, she isn't too terribly surprised.
He is gone, he is dead.
She had confessed her love to him and he'd only looked mildly surprised before he stepped away with the promise of coming right back. Of course he hadn't and the girl is left with her grief, the emotion a nasty thing that wraps its barbed fingers around her neck, it chokes her voice so she cannot speak and forces tears out of her endlessly. The wetness streaks down her cheeks as she curls the arm back to her chest, having been woken from a dream where he loved her back. As she dissolved into sobs once more, broken and alone on the floor, a warmth wraps around her shoulders.

Such a terrible thing...
Yes, it had been wretched to be so alone and in love with a dead boy whose sacrifice was its own confession she had been too sad to see.
You don't need such pain.

The deep feeling of sorrow leaks from Annabell as the Goddess inhales. The tears fade entirely as the woman exhales and before the girl the flowers she had chosen bloom anew. They were beautiful before, but they are glorious now. When the Goddess has asked for a favor, she continues to give, something the girl does not overlook.
She smiles at the Goddess, whispers a reverent 'thank you' and slips away. One last glance is given back to the wall before the girl turns around. An errant tear streaks down her cheek and is hastily wiped away. She tells herself it is from how touched she is by the Goddesses continual kindness, but she knows she is lying to herself, that it is that feeling in her ribs. Despite the warmth that rides on her shoulders, she feel that weight has grown larger, if only by a little. And though the girl walks away feeling comforted, she realizes what that other sensation is:
She feels hollow.

Sarviur knew the importance of the wall.

He'd seen the creatures first-hand, of course. Wave by wave, they came. The processors with their monitor heads, the many-armed creepers, the ones that repeated hello, hello, hello ad infinitum...

They needed a higher wall. Others have had the same idea, and flock to it in spurts, or the Goddess of Paranoia has whispered it into their minds: Sarviur does not know, and it does not matter, anyway. He has never had a thought that was not from his Goddess, after all...he draws up close and examines it. It is so solid and so tall: there are no little nooks where he could cram his trinkets, sacrifices to the Goddess. A flashlight, though, with a cat. What flashlight can be used to build a wall? Dried flowers, a little bouquet. The wall does not need aesthetics, only strength. That brick will do: it is whole and solid in Sarviur's arms, if sticky and stained. But the wall does not need aesthetics, only strength.

He walks along the wall and finds a section of bricks: neat and orderly and lovely but for a single hole. No little trinket could fill this: in the brick goes, leaving, as it leaves, a -

Smack!

Sarviur's brick falls, falls, falls, smacks against a helmet, which cracks, and he feels satisfied. A scream. Yes, a scream - there have been many of those lately. Distant, Sarviur thinks, there is a boom. Flesh and blood and bone split themselves on his own helmet, but he did not turn to look. The ocean was there, and with it waves that would wash him clean. Fog. If he was clean, maybe - if he was clean, maybe he could avoid it. Fog. They were all coming, too, now that this one was done for. Fog. They were going to kill him. Fog...

He'd kill them first, cleanly. No one would see it coming. Like the tide, the one rushing toward him now, louder, louder -

"A virgin?" He felt stunned, and she nodded. She was frightened. He could tell.

"But how would I know?" he asked desperately. "Do humans just walk up to you, and say, hi, I'm a virgin, now - "

"I doubt it," she said, although there was not a shred of uncertainty in her voice. "I mean, like..." A shrug. "Just thought you should know. Face it," she said, and then another word - Sarviur heard only white noise, though her mouth moved. "You guys are weak. My mom told me." She turned her chin at him, and gave a braying laugh.

"I could beat you in any fight!" It was true, too. He was good at sparring, especially if he had a lance in his hands.

"Not if I was a human virgin."

"Could too! And so could my dad; he hasn't been stolen by virgins!" He was mad, now, and rushed at her, head down.

Stone? No, she wasn't made of st

- oh. Arms, black and warm and yellow. The goddess curled her arms around him, and he was safe. "Yes, you're safe now. You never have to trust in anything..." Except for her, and for the other Goddesses, benevolent and bright and without cores. They'd keep him safe, and they'd keep everyone else safe. The arms pulled back, something clutched tight within them. Sarviur could not see what.

Thoughts of virgins and dangers and scareground bullies - whatever those were - went with them. Yes, the Wall was strong. The Wall would hold them safe -

As would the Goddesses.



Inside Sarviur, warmth bloomed.

Andie in his explorations, found his self at a huge wall. He could hear the whispers of the goddess telling him to build it higher and couldn't help but agree to do so. All around he saw figures adding to the wall, building it higher and higher. After a look around he found something that would help.

After a bit of searching he came across a half melted cartoon flashlight and felt a pull to chose it. He picked it up and looked it over in curiosity, suddenly feeling safe and secure. Smiling brightly he held the flashlight close and returned to the wall. He put on the safety gear then began to climb the wall to find the perfect spot for it. The light started to turn on as he got higher and Andie knew, just knew the spot it was meant for was close by.

On and on he climbed as the light grew brighter and brighter in his grasp until it was so bright he had to stop for a moment. As he was paused suddenly the world went dark and he was laying on a bed under the covers, terrified of what was shifting outside his cocoon of safety. Then there was a frightening laugh and the blanket was ripped away, leaving a grin that sent shivers of fear down his back. Then everything changed, no longer a tiny thing in the dark afraid of the monster outside but something different.

He sat there with his legs pulled tight to his chest and arms clasped around them. There were tears pouring down his chubby face and he was trying to keep quiet as he sobbed. Why did they do this? Every day, every single day they did this and it was so terrifying. He didn't know what to do other then hide away until it passed.

Suddenly the yelling got louder nearby and he moved so his hands could cover his ears to block out the harsh things the couple that had taken him in two months ago yelled at each other. He was too young to understand fully what 'slut' meant or how someone was a 'unfeeling son of a b****' but he was old enough to know they were mean, nasty words and should never repeat them. He let out a whimper as the yelling grew louder still and hid his face on his knees. Suddenly the door to the closet was yanked open and the woman of the house stood there with a nasty scowl on her face.

The memory faded after that and Andie found his self facing the goddess who took his hands, leaving his feeling safe again. He had no problem with surrendering the feelings, the memory to her. She was protection, just as the wall was. He smiled brightly at her when the memory was gone, not sure why other then the feeling he should be grateful to her. When she was gone he was still left with the feeling of safety and it was joined by accomplishment. After all he had helped with the wall that kept them safe.