Every great game had a that pivotal moment where the budding hero went from courageous novice to bad a** warrior. That moment in their story where legend and destiny intermingle, and everything suddenly becomes startlingly clear as a flashback reveals a window to a past long forgotten. This, Soleil had learned from repeated gamer experience, was usually followed with the bequeathing of a quest to retrieve a magical, legendary weapon.

Things had not, thus far, been following that exact guideline. However, Soleil was not discouraged. Maybe this was just a new kind of game. Not the fantasy rpg she had been imagining, but a something more futuristic, a little distopian. Maybe it was a genre that had gone as of yet untapped by mainstream gaming media?

Maybe.

One thing that had fallen in line with her unrealistic expectations was the assigned task of retrieving a weapon. Or so she had been told when she'd been pointed in the direction of a somewhat ominous hole in the ground with a stone staircase leading down into eerie darkness.

Standing on the third step from the top, she glanced back once at the blonde hunter that had been her introduction into this new life,then began to descend into the gloom.

The fantastical sci-fi theme seemed to carry on down here as well. It was dark, but all along the walls there were stone tablets with what looked like glowing, carved runes. Not the familiar, Norse looking ones she knew, but different. Runes she'd never seen before. Eyes wide, she moved slowly along one wall, looking over each and everyone of them. Along with the runes it looked as if there were pictures of weapons as well. "How...am I supposed to choose?"

<You do not...choose.>

The voice was a lethargic sounding rumble of a bass that seemed to resonate with the teen as if she'd been struck with a tuning fork. Her hand fell away from the wall, head turning to look around herself in the darkness of the cove, but she didn't see anyone there with her. "Hello?"

<I choose. Have choosen.>

Soleil frowned. Here in this cavernous room, a voice n the dark should have echoed a bit, effected by the acoustics around her. Instead, it sounded as if that rumbling voice was just beside her ear. Or...inside her own skull.

<Correct.>

"You're talking to me in my mind?" She sounded incredulous, and why not?

<Correct.>

Lips twisting, she had to pause to consider that for a moment. The implications of it. It was, she noted a moment later, the sort of thing that seemed to happen to the protagonists in some of her games. "Where..." The frown deepened, brows creasing, and she headed a little deeper into the room. "Where are you?"

<Must find me. I have been...searching. For you.>

That had Sol's head tilting a bit to one side, puzzled. "Me?" She thought about that for a moment, trying to get a sense of where the voice was coming from, despite it being in her head. It felt like, maybe, something was pulling at her. It was hard to explain, but she found herself drawn to one side. A row of tablets midway down. "Me as in Me specifically? Or just, you know, someone?"

<You.>

Well, that was certainly something.

"So, who are you?" She continued to follow the pull, even closing her eyes as he hands came up again to hang in the air between herself and the tablets.

<Bjorn.>

The accent was thick, and Soleil felt a chill crawl up the length of her spine at the hint of guttural growl that single word had carried. It was a nice voice, she decided. The sort that folks would sit and listen to, regardless of what they were saying. A good voice for narration, though he seemed a little less than chatty. "Bjorn, huh? Well it's nice to meet you. I'm Soleil."

<So-leil...>

It didn't quite sound right in his voice, but she grinned anyways, the tips of her fingers brushing over stone. It pulsed beneath them, neither warm, nor cold, and then nothing. Then, not more than half a second later, her fingers were curling around the thick handle of something heavy, arms drooping as the sudden wait made them sage. When she opened her eyes, they widened in appreciation as she let out a low whistle.

<I am your's, as you are mine.>

"So...like," she grasped for a word, and when she found it she sent it to him as he spoke to her, experimentally. Bonded?

<Bonded. We are partners now and always.>

There was something to that. Something that had the teen smiling warmly down at the wicked looking scythe in her hands. "Now and always."