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Shasa heard his voice before she saw him, that deep timbre a lifeline of sorts. A frail little smile creased her lips, and Shasa turned to face Shaw. There was a lingering tension around her eyes, around that small smile --

"Shaw."

She didn't even think about her next movement, merely wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled her head just beneath his chin - because if she knew nothing else, Shasa knew that he was her source of comfort. She did not know if he'd remember her, because she barely remembered him - but suddenly she'd wanted nothing more than his arms wrapped around her and the comfort that embrace would bring.

Shasa didn't want to feel alone.

"Where will you go?"

All his effortless words made her smile continue, made her let go of the tension she had been carrying in her shoulders. It isn't enough to wipe it all away, of course, but he is working wonders on her when a few moments ago she had been in the throes of her own personal despair.
A laugh pops out when he compliments her and she shakes her head hard enough that gray curls bounce over her shoulders.
"I have done dreadfully!" She argues in a happier voice than she means, for she has lost her heart and has to give it again. But... But the task feels easier now. Maybe they shouldn't linger anymore.

One hand raises, pushes back some of her hair. This is not a problem, just like he says.
"Ready, then?" She asks with a smile, using it a silent reminder to see his own. The hand stretches out toward him, a small offering. Just this once, she does not want to go things alone. Just this one last time, she wants him along with her, for he has always made her feel safest and brightest in this strange world.

Vassou watched as everyone around him began to disappear after entering the doors. He covered his ears as he tried to keep himself from exploding in fear. His heart race as he dropped to his knees. Tears slowly rolled down his cheeks --

"Sovasu..."

It snapped him out of his depressive state. His eyes went wide as he looked around to see who spoke that name. It sounded very familiar, but it wasn't his name. "Show yourself!" He said as he looked around, paranoid.

"Sovasu..."

He heard it again then realized that this must of been his true name, but it sounded unnatural to him. He looked to see the three doors. Destruction, Pride,, and Creation. He wasn't sure of which door to go through. He didn't want to disappear alone. He wanted someone by his side.

The pull behind her heart (it's foreign, it's horrible, she remembers fragments of who she was and she wishes she didn't) tugs Licraesa to the shrine.

It is the same as it has always been. Three statues, three plaques, three pithy fragments of one coherent thought. She reads the only one that matters, from her own True Goddess( but █ doesn't believe in higher powers, does she--).

A wall does not protect, a wall can only buy you time. A wall can only give you what you need to carry on.

(The wall is infinitely tall and infinitely small in one movement. The wall does not protect, but it tries. The wall keeps what it can at bay. The wall is just a wall is just a wall is just a stopgap for what lays beyond it--)

The door opens up and it beseeches to Licraesa that she sacrifice her heart. It is a traitorous thing, her heart, canary yellow, sunny day, lemon bright. It is a traitorous thing, and lets the memories leak in around the cracks of █. She steps through the door and there was never a choice to do anything but--

Her Goddess stands before her, along with all the others. She is still just a statue. She is no longer yellow but a striking cyan blue (Licraesa realises, it is the colour of her pendant, is this what it means to be a--) and the plaque reads a singular sentence. It is no longer quite so pithy.

Sacrifice yourself for us.

How could she do anything but acquiesce to her demands? Willingly so? The forms around her take shape, and she realises a few faces in the fog. They mean nothing and are nothing. She looks down at her heart and it bleeds a rainbow, it bleeds a variegated spectrum, it thumps and is █ yellow blue, it is half a rainbow, it is--

Licraesa hears it. It is so, so familiar, and it is a name but she does not know it, it is a name but her attempts to say it result in naught. It is a name but the █ takes over, it is the moon and the sky is █ and the fog is gone and the moon is close. Her heart beats faster than a cheetah runs, her breaths come in panicked pants. The █ pulls her closer. The █ is all she knows.

The moon speaks and it is a horror, she speaks of being a queen, she speaks of wrath and destruction. Licraesa's heart demands it. She wants to know that █, she demands to know its touch. She has forgotten something and she cannot recall, she has forgotten something and it is--

Yellow and green tear the fabric of the sky apart, the solid sanguine belt above broken into three, and
how could she pick anything else? A name floats into her mind (and it is █), and it is not a choice at all. There has never been a choice, there never is a choice, there never will be a choice.

She is helpless to any choice but Destruction.

Licraesa digs her fingers into her chest and the sound of rib bones snapping is a comfort, the pain is a companion, the knowledge that she is serving a greater purpose is all the satisfaction she needs. She has no heart and it wants to beat, and her knowledge of who she once was fades away. The evidence slips between her fingers, escaping through the tendrils of her mind, and she hears a name, Licraesa hears something and they call her █ but that isn't right, it isn't right, it isn't--

Her eyes close.

Shasa wilted slightly at those four soft words. She pulled away and clasped her hand with Shaw's, twining her fingers between his.

The emerald green was dismissed immediately. It was not her, it was not what she wanted. Shasa did not seek knowledge. Things had happened the way they had for a reason, and Shasa firmly believed it.

Her eyes lit upon the glinting gold, and Shasa believed she'd made her choice. She did not want to be forgotten. She did not want to be nothing.

Despite the gold, Shasa could not deny the red. Destruction. The word itself sent a shiver down her spine, and the memories - those bloodied scissors, that crimson dagger, blood blood blood. The tea, her tea, nothing but malice and hate and want and everything horrible - it called to her.

She needed Destruction. The power in chaos. The thrill of taking in order to move ahead.

Shasa squeezed her fingers, gripping Shaw's hand tighter and tighter as she moved to where she truly belonged.

"This way."

The wrap of his hand around her own is good, it makes her feel easier about all this. The bending of his elbow to bring her closer is better, for any proximity to him makes her feel safer. But when she is drawn closer all the more, when she is pulled into a hug she finds herself effortlessly turning her head to press her cheek against his chest, marveling at how well she fits inside his arms. Her hands fold around his waist and she smiles.
"As shall you, Ortam. Thank you." Just as quickly as she is pulled in he lets her go, but her hands reach up to curl against his chest. "And remember to smile." That feels awfully important.
Slowly she inhales one last time, squeezing his hand. One last look is given up to him, one last smile before she had to let go.

Annabell knows she cannot linger any longer, that she must make her choice now or else face some terrible consequence for taking too long. The red holds nothing for her and she immediately turns away, but the green and gold play for her hand. Gold was the plaque she chose before, but its promise now seems hollow. It is beautiful and promising, but something just feels off to her. The green color holds an odd, familiar depth. And knowledge is a far more valuable thing at the moment.
The world turned a deep verdant color, springing to life with leaves and twists of foliage. It invites the girl closer, it begs for her gift. Having her heart forcibly removed was a terrible first experience, it was an awful thing that left deep bruises in her memory. Those bruises are still tender when she reaches up to place a hand against her heart, the thing hammering in her chest. She does not want to do this, she does not want to give up herself. But there is no longer a choice.
With a deep breath her fingers slid in and she gasps, but they move on their own now. They clutch at the frantically resisting thing and pull out. Already removed once, there is little resistance now, the task made easy by prior experience. But stepping forward is more difficult, the girl left trying to gasp for air and finding it unnecessary. There is not fulfillment without a heart. Everything aches in a sharp way and that feels familiar too, but for a different reason.

One step. The green beckons her sweetly, coaxed another step out of her. Two steps. Almost there lovely little thing, just a bit closer. A third step. Good girl, you've done well.
Annabell sighs as she offers her heart to Creation, the feeling of falling distinct. Things break apart, emotions pour from her as she looses the feeling of her feet and knees and moves downward still. People are calling her, but its something different they say. Parts sound familiar, but it sounds a little backwards too. They grab her, they shake her and she manages one last smile for them. A sacrifice is always in vain she wants to say, but she lets that breath go and fades away.

"Sounds good to me." he said in response to both comments with a gentle little twist of a smile, not able to keep the warmth and relief out of his tone. He wasn't so sure he liked the idea of Iron giving his heart to anyone, or likewise handing his own heart over to anyone else but he held fast in the hope that they were just giving back their gifts and blessings, handing back what was simply baggage to them. Maybe they were just setting themselves free.

"So be it." He leaned over to kiss Rojand on the cheek. "See you on the other side too. Don't worry, he'll make sure I don't do anything too stupid" he smirked, before turning and starting in the direction of red. Pausing to wait patiently for Harrison to join him as he eyed the way to the crown.

His eyes were wide as he eyed it, his breathing shallow and quick, in all honesty he was terrified, standing at the edge of a very high cliff, relying on faith and instinct, aware he could be dragging Iron into the very maw of danger. But he needed him, he needed him and that was all there was. He swallowed through the dryness in his mouth and subtly held out his hand.

"You ready then?"

Shaw's heart fluttered as she placed her hand against it. He looked down to her, smiling. He could do this, for her.

And then there was only red, and still he smiled; not out of joy or love but out of fear.

He gave her hand one last squeeze-