[ This world is a place where dreams can come true. But dreams come in pairs: light and darkness, good and evil, hope and despair; where there is the brightest day, there must also be the darkest night.
He is the shadow behind the mirror, the illusion behind the curtain; trapped in an endless nightmare which has now become his reality. Dreams are not good.
Someone is speaking. Someone is laughing. The audience applauds. The curtains rise; crimson and obsidian interweave into accompaniment. The stage is set, and you must return to where you belong. Never forget the purpose of your existence. Ỳ̯̲̣ͅͅọ̩͈̠͈u̪̞ ͈̳m͎u͕̩͟ͅs̴̤̭̳̣t̲̘̖̪̘̝ ̫̼̀s̹̘̲̤̟̯̣ị̻̪n͙̟̥̲̖̗͍g͘.̳̹͕̳̱̞
—— No! You can't!
A feathered paw presses something cold into his hands. His fingers find the familiar crisscrossing grooves of blue light; an anchor in the boundless dark. He remembers who he is, and he knows what he must do. ]
Miss Christine...?
[ The chorus falls silent, the music fades, and he can hear himself once again. The shadows spilling out of his form quickly gather beneath his feet, as if they were never there at all...
Miss Christine gives him a pointed meow, as if to say: 'You big dummy!' ]
... My apologies, for making you worry.
[ His voice is hoarse, as if the device has restrained him in more ways than one. The surroundings come back to him in sharp relief, and... ah. They have a guest.
Satisfied, Miss Christine moves to perch on his shoulder, and he rises to his feet. ]
Thank you for your help.
[ Miss Christine doesn't bring people to him without good reason. He can guess at why Tsuru is here. ]
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He is the shadow behind the mirror, the illusion behind the curtain; trapped in an endless nightmare which has now become his reality. Dreams are not good.
Someone is speaking. Someone is laughing. The audience applauds. The curtains rise; crimson and obsidian interweave into accompaniment. The stage is set, and you must return to where you belong. Never forget the purpose of your existence. Ỳ̯̲̣ͅͅọ̩͈̠͈u̪̞ ͈̳m͎u͕̩͟ͅs̴̤̭̳̣t̲̘̖̪̘̝ ̫̼̀s̹̘̲̤̟̯̣ị̻̪n͙̟̥̲̖̗͍g͘.̳̹͕̳̱̞
—— No! You can't!
A feathered paw presses something cold into his hands. His fingers find the familiar crisscrossing grooves of blue light; an anchor in the boundless dark. He remembers who he is, and he knows what he must do. ]
Miss Christine...?
[ The chorus falls silent, the music fades, and he can hear himself once again. The shadows spilling out of his form quickly gather beneath his feet, as if they were never there at all...
Miss Christine gives him a pointed meow, as if to say: 'You big dummy!' ]
... My apologies, for making you worry.
[ His voice is hoarse, as if the device has restrained him in more ways than one. The surroundings come back to him in sharp relief, and... ah. They have a guest.
Satisfied, Miss Christine moves to perch on his shoulder, and he rises to his feet. ]
Thank you for your help.
[ Miss Christine doesn't bring people to him without good reason. He can guess at why Tsuru is here. ]