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Blind, deaf, and mute. But the sensation was ever so frightening because there was no sensation. If he was standing, he felt like was falling backwards into a never ending fall and yet there was no air that passed over him. Floating in an abyss. So was this what it was like for those who died that day - Market Day - the Fall of the Silver Tower, the Collapse of the Silver Tower, the Battlefields of West? Was this all there was to this world?

Perhaps the Voice was right. He gave them life, he gave them kingdoms and thus the denizens were to be ever thankful for their existence. What happened then that they did not help the Voice? Why did it leave them to be their own? When did the kingdoms become focused on themselves than to forsake the one who created them to begin with? Just like that, the Voice stripped them of their powers, just as he had said, taking back what was its.

But what was he?

Everyone who died seemed reborn. New. Yet he never died. Born and raised as a young Silver - pianist, hunter, son - never got the experience that the others of the kingdoms did. Did they know something that he didn't?

Confusion.

Why did it happen? The fall of the kingdoms, the fight of the kingdoms, the affliction of those who came to the tower? Why even reborn those who had fallen only to bring them back to have them die again!? What a cruel joke, Voice. A cruel joke. That was what it was... this was just one big cruel joke to find some king that was never to be found.

Hatred.

Sorry, Shadow King... I couldn't do it after all. I let you down... Maple? Maple. I'm-

Aedan stumbled, arms covering his head as debris landed on him--he felt like a sitting duck, lost and abandoned in the dark. He was afraid, not of dying, for he'd already been through that...mostly. He was alone, and he was nothing. There would be no one to remark on his passing, or to remember the way he smiled (rarely), or the way he liked to light a candle, with the barest flick of his wrist, and a softly spoken word.

And then, he could feel...himself, fragmenting. And oh, it hurt, but not in a physical sense--he was losing his sense of self, beginning with the mundane, and the unimportant, but slowly digging deeper--and as it did so, he could feel memories slipping away, of laughter, and learning, and finally...that vague, lingering feeling of pride, and of belonging. He straightened, although he could no longer feel his arms, or his legs, and the pain was taking root in the very core of him, tearing away every last dream, and hope.

With the fading of that last spark of what had made him...him, there was no more fear, no more pain, or even consciousness of what he'd lost, real or not...there wasn't even a sense of peace, just...silence.

Mjoll was still trying to grab at someone when she felt it. The voice, it was back; ENOUGH She stopped mid grab and stood up looking around, unseeing eyes not being able to locate anything useful at all. A frown as she listened; I have decided my fate and yours. It is time you take what is not yours and return it to me, all of it, my power I have given you, reclaimed finitely as mine. Mjoll would gladly give it to him.

However, she frowned as she looked around who won? There was no winner that she knew of, she tried to look around still, shielding her non-seeing eyes as the world started to tremble around her with walls and floors splitting sending debris flying. Something was grabbing at her, a void as empty as her heart was grabbing for her. She could feel it, but yet it didn't hurt as expected; nor as frightening as she could've fathomed. It simply felt like she was undoing layers of fabric.

She closed her eyes as finger, after finger, limb after limb, each unraveled into a ribbon of nothingness. The feeling was one of blissful emptiness, she no longer had to be hallow, no more broken, no more lie. No longer would she have to lead a life that wasn't true. She only hoped - prayed that the real her would do things differently. That if Bastion truly loves her even in the real world; that perhaps that love would find a way. She also hoped he wasn't a damned womanizer in the real life. Alas, none of that mattered, nothing mattered as she raveled away basking in it as if it was a nice warm shower on a cold day.

And ... just like that ... her fragment shattered. With a blissful sigh.

Gargantuan froze at the sound of the Voice again, booming in his thoughts, and it overwhelmed All. He took a slow and steady breath, forcing himself to keep his calm. It was easier said than done--especially as he felt the fingers of his hand beginning to quite literally dissipate.

He flexed his fingers for a moment, unable to really believe it, and that was when the first flutters of panic started to grip him.

Regret was there most overwhelmingly, and his breath hitched in his throat with the beginnings of despair. Gargantuan didn't want to be a fake. He wanted to live, wanted to exist with his Family until they all grew old and died together.

That was how it was always supposed to be.

Tears leaked from his eyes once more, but the big man did not dissolve into sobs this time. Knowing it was coming hadn't made it any easier, but at least he would fade knowing that he had never been real to begin with.

G reached out with both hands, hoping to touch someone, anyone--only to realize that his arms had gone, and that was when the despair hit home, crushing into his chest like the point of a spear.

Suddenly, violently, he shattered.

Gargantuan, for the last time, was no more.

Mitsu had been blindly scrambling around the room trying to avoid people she couldn't see and only managed to slam into objects and people alike. When she had finally come to rest crouched against the wall the voice entered her mind, yelling for everything to stop. She froze where she was, turning her head but unable to understand anything else but what was being forced into her mind.

The voice wanted its power back? But to her knowledge she had no power to give it. She shook her head confused but clung to the wall when she felt everything begin to shake. Her heart began to pound in her chest, as she huddled to what she thought was a safe surface only to feel a crack form from the floor up. Everything was coming apart!

Frightened the shifter stood but nearly stumbled forward when the floor spit beside her feet. What was happening? Was there no where safe to go? If only she could see. Where was Shun? Could he help her? Was he okay?

She wanted to find the man who had brought her here and despite how impossible it was her hands reached out hoping he would be beside her. They gripped nothing but empty air leaving her feeling alone in this darkened void. There was a heavy sense of disappointment until she felt someone bump into her nearly toppling her over on her already unsteady surface. Her hands reached out and gripped the stranger feeling their hands touching her sensitive ears. Mitsu hardly relied on her nose for anything but this scent...it was somewhat familiar. Could it be?

It was odd though, how odd her hands felt. She let go and brought them closer to her but it felt like they were unraveling. It wasn't painful but where she had once felt her hands and arms there was nothing but an empty void. That feeling began to creep its way up her legs as well swallowing her torso until her frantically beating heart ceased to move. As the sensation completely engulfed her she felt her mind following suit, her memories of her past, her friends, her family, and her kingdom were all coming undone. Piece by piece until the last thing she saw fade from her mind was the man she had met from the red kingdom. Desperately she clung to that last memory as it was being pulled from her wishing it could last a little longer.

Closing her unseeing eyes her lips moved forming the only goodbye she could manage to the man she couldn't even see. She could only hope he would keep his promise not to forget because her own memories were already lost as her body dissolved away to nothing. In this fake world of kings and crowns her existence was now null and void. It was like she had never been here at all.

He felt the man in front of him so still, his shaking hands reaching up and clasping his own. God, how he hated having to do this. It needed to be done... he needed to end it al-

Enough

That word stopped him stone cold, stopped the pressure he was putting on the Cerberus's throat. The world started to shake, to split. It was enough to startle him in to letting go, falling away from his old king. As he fell away the old kings image flashed in his mind, and he surely knew that something had gone wrong. Objects were swirling, debris hitting him frome very angle. He could not see, but even so his eyes were snapped shut. Be it fear from the world dissolving around him, or be it a want to actually not see.

He did not want to see this world be destroyed. That part of his core, his false memories, truly wanted this. As he was allowing himself to be taken over by the other memories for a brief moment while he and tack danced, as this room was destroyed... it happened too.

Only then he felt something being pulled from inside him, though nothing was being touched. It was if something had hooked little claws in to him and pulling from under his skin, removing something that was foreign to it. Only around this time did he see it, the first thing he had seen since climbing the tower. It was.... himself? Himself covered in glorious golds, or rich purples and the deepest blacks. Of keys and of many other things. His other self looked pleased, looked confident. Looked... content. The two did not make eye contact, he watched slowly as the other started to fade. Little by little the one before him faded; with it his memories. For a brief moment he reached out to his other side, wondering if they would touch. Only they did not, why was i reaching out again? He wondered. Until finally, at the end, there was nothing left of his vision.

The last thing he remembered, was looking at that mirror of a face and wondering why exactly he looked so familiar, before being thrust into the darkness.

Uluiru lifted his head, as if to look up at the Voice, as if he could, y'know, see. Foolish little silver, who had no idea what this was all about, let alone the facts that some had been given when they'd fallen on the field. He stumbled backward, knocked off his feet by a stray piece of...he didn't even know what. What did it mean, taking what it had given them? Surely he hadn't been given anything by the Voice?

And then...it began. It would have been far less terrifying had he had the some sort of warning, rather than just the vague, angry hints dropped by the Voice itself. He could feel, or rather, suddenly not feel his fingertips, and the tips of his toes--and he couldn't even see what was actually happening, since his world remained completely and utterly dark. At the same time, he could feel the memories slipping away, flashing through his head before disappearing into nothingness. Friends. Home. The feeling of standing in the forest, with the moon filtering through the trees...he got a brief flash, and then just the sense of something being missing, as if he weren't whole anymore.

As more and more of himself was whisked away, the feelings of panic, and then sorrow--he felt hollow, as if something was missing, although he could't even remember what...but not for long, because then he felt nothing, not even a sense of inevitability--his whole world, his entire existence was this sensation of splintering apart and fading away, each fragment breaking into smaller and smaller pieces, until there was nothing left.