Complete High March Will They Stare Back at You?

Luthien

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Her words had struck something, though what exactly the elf wasn’t sure. However it had made the redhead finally turn back and acknowledge her presence, even if the moment had lasted far less than Lúthien would’ve preferred. She’d gained a knack for reading certain body language signs, imperfect as her skill was, but even with her added hyper senses the ranger struggled to get a proper bead on the woman.

The mist swirled around them, kicked up by their footsteps, and it wasn’t long before new scenes began to play against the cloudy surfaces. She was surprised to see the familiar sight of Fiora on the first one, the greenette sporting the iconic serious look most knew her best for. The others she didn’t recognize, though the familiar pinkette by the end was impossible to miss.

It faded back into nothingness, before pictures slowly resurfaced and took life at her right now. The face of a young man she’d never properly met, though Lúthien was certain she’d seen his face among the many that had gathered for Szofrit’s finale. The hand that slammed against the table startled her, the action not one she’d come to know or expect from the caenis, but it didn’t take long before Ash had seemingly returned to normal—as if nothing had ever happened—before the memory drifted away like the first.

"Unnie...?" A flash of white and purple had caught her attention then, a surprised whisper leaving her lips as the elf recognized Lune and the serious expression she wore. She was training him. A slight wince followed as the massive cleaver tore through fabric and flesh, followed by a gasping sound as the blonde took a sharp intake of air.

Brief as it'd been the sight was undeniable—a blood-red eye had stared back when Vargold tilted his head down to survey the damage against his chest. The memory began to disintegrate just as the caenis lunged towards the woman, the tip of his sword steady and aimed towards her core…

"... you’re not his roommate." She was certain of it now, this was Ash’s dreamscape… and the memories were responding to her.

It shouldn’t have been possible, but if there was one thing the blonde had learned during her time playing this death trap was that TerraSphere loved to defy the boundaries of possibilities… and dissonance seemed to be the driving force that enabled it all. They were like night and day from one another, so much that the thought had seemed absurd at first, but the signs had been there… and Lúthien felt certain of it now.

"It’s always been you."

@Ash Vargold
 
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Ash Vargold

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Aisling Lane





It was inevitable, really.

Even outside this... illusion, there were already holes in her facade. Bit by bit, reality had intruded into the game, and the game into reality. Despite her efforts, her walls were crumbling. Or, looking at this current situation, walking around as herself and watching her memories playing like a slideshow for Lúthien to see, they'd never been there to begin with.

"...I guess there's no point in hiding it anymore. This is... me."


After all the lying, there wasn't anything else she could really say here. Nothing that would still the growing pain in her chest or the certainty she'd pushed yet another person away.

"Once we're out of this place, I'll be out of your hair-"



"You are still running."

It was Ash's voice that rang through the air, and Ash's form cutting through the mist. It seemed to part around him, revealing the sharp reality High Reach behind him - and Lúthien's slumped form at his feet. He was wearing a more familiar outfit - one that still had the tear left by Lune's sword and the stains of her blood.

"You haven't learned anything, have you? Why won't you listen?"



In one hand, he held the cracked mask.

In the other hand, a sword.​


Aisling looked between the Lúthien on the ground, and the Lúthien standing behind her. "Wait... what is..."

"How many times? How long until you realize this isn't sustainable?"


A memory of a dream. A conversation in the dark. Once again she was faced with himself, her mask cut free to turn against her. Giving word to a question she'd asked herself again and again...

"You run away, and then you come back. Again and again. Why? What do you want, Aisling?"


...what did she want? Once, she'd played for fun. Then, to learn what Terrasphere was.

And now...

"I... I don't..."


"Ash" stared, and then the look turned to Lúthien. The expression was probably familiar, but still hollow. Something was missing behind the yellow glare. "Lúthien. I'm sure you have an opinion to share with the class?"
 
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"Not gonna lie, this was pretty unexpected." The little hints had been there before, but truth be told she’d always assumed that perhaps Isa and her had simply gotten lucky and ran across Vargold’s IRL roommate… not the caenis himself—themselves?—in the flesh. After all, what were the chances of running into another TS player in the flesh during a crowded event?

High apparently, and if Val had a nickel for every time it had happened she’d already have three under her name… maybe more?

"Once we're out of this place, I'll be out of your hair—"
"Wait, what—"
"You are still running."

Brows furrowed in confusion as the elf turned away from a memory to look the redhead straight on, before the familiar voice of the caenis interrupted them as it echoed moments before he reappeared from the mist. "Nice of you to finally join us, got tired of gallivanting through the mist—!" Her words cut short as the blonde spotted her body slumped around Vargold’s feet, before her crimson eyes finally tore away from her own self to take in the outfit currently being worn by the caenis.

The long tear caused by Lune’s slash revealed parts of Vargold that certain noble landers would’ve loved to gaze upon, with a particularly grotesque and dissonant eye currently missing from its place. She remained quiet as Ash said his piece, his focus mostly aimed on the redhead, and the ranger couldn’t help but shrug in response when the woman looked at her with a questioning glance.

{ Look, I’m as surprised as you about my body over there. } Quite the surreal experience if Lúthien was honest, though part of the dream elf was undoubtedly somewhat used to inexplicable events given her recreational dreamscapades.

She could easily pick out the signs, this had been an ongoing struggle for whoever knew how long that had been playing out—only this time they had one(1) elven gremlin to witness it. She knew Ash was a veteran player, one that had gone through the misfortune of their first death, though she had never asked him how it had come to pass… though it certainly gave some insight as to why the caenis had been so upset with her presence around these parts.

"Lúthien. I'm sure you have an opinion to share with the class?"

Mierda... A nervous laughter escaped her as Vargold turned in her direction, the sharpness behind those yellow eyes both familiar and unsettling as they focused on her. A glance was given back to the redhead who was currently struggling against the proposed question, her voice barely above a whisper as that curtain of red shielded most of her face from view.

"Sure, it’s a question I’ve asked myself before." Who wouldn’t after all, especially once the game finally reared its claws in your direction. "And the answer’s always changing too."

At first it’d been a convenient way to escape the loneliness she’d felt back home, the game offering a level of challenge and adventure that nothing else currently in the market could compete with. She’d always enjoyed new sights, undiscovered new storylines and plots, and the thrill of a new adventure—and all of these were the very things that had drawn her to the League.

Each one brought new faces too, people that little by little had become near and dear to her heart despite the incredible distance that separated them back in the real world. The game offered a way to breach miles and miles in a single moment, allowing them to laugh, cry, and spend time together as they continued to enjoy the perks that TerraSphere offered… but now some of those faces were gone or missing, and the responsibility weighed heavily against the shoulders as the elf became determined to bring them back.

"I dunno what her reasons for playing might be…" Best she would venture as a guess was that they were probably as complicated or more as her own. "But I have promises to keep… and the potential this world has vastly outshines anything our own can currently offer."

Perhaps that was truly the most dangerous and addictive nature of this place, all of the ‘what could’ve been’ and things they could experience here that were impossible to achieve in the real world.

@Ash Vargold
 

Ash Vargold

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Aisling Lane


Aisling, to her credit, listened as Lúthien spoke. She hated that she felt the need to respond to the apparition, almost as much as she hated this game treating her own inner thoughts as material for it's machinations.

...and she couldn't help but clench her fists as Lúthien gave her own reason. She couldn't stop herself from marching towards the elf (but something about her was wavering, as if she'd gone transparent and something else was showing through the surface) and grabbing her by the clothes. Aisling glared up at Lúthien, and this close it was hard not to see the resemblance between the caenis Lúthien knew and the woman standing here now.

"Potential? Are you serious, Lúthien? You do know what this game does, right?"



Th-th-thump, th-th-thump went his heart in her chest like an intruder, as if trying to warn her away from this. But Aisling had reached her limit a long time ago, and Lúthien's declaration had been just enough to push her beyond it. Perhaps some part of her was watching this, trying to stop the woman's tantrum.

Whatever part of her it was, it clearly wasn't strong enough.

"This game kills. What potential can that kind of thing have?!"



@Luthien
 

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She’d been oblivious to the faint flickers in her body as she spoke, her mind focused more on the question Vargold had provided and the slumped elven body at his feet. The last one had certainly began stirring whispered questions and concerns in the back of her mind, the very ones Lúthien desperately chose to ignore for now s she focused on whoever was piloting the awoo noble now that she knew the redhead was the true IRL pilot behind the avatar.

"H-hey—!" Perhaps it’s no surprise that she didn’t see the woman approach until her hands clung tightly to the fabric of her clothes and forced Lúthien to look away from Vargold and into her eyes. "Wwhat the fuck?!"

Light skinned hands reached up to wrap around Aisling’s own, devoid of the signature leather gloves the ranger is known for wearing, though she doesn’t outright force the woman to release the iron grip against her clothes. Her lips spread into a thin line as she listens to her words, immensely aware of the risks this game carries—especially after finding out first hand how a first death can feel within it.

"I know it kills…!" It was impossible to not know as much, especially with how much veteran players had hounded and harped the newbies within it as they’d begun to join the game in droves. "You can’t get five steps into this game without someone reminding you about it every fucking day."

The eyes that stare back at Aisling are a lighter shade than before, glimmering like pink spinels as they glared back at the redhead. "Yes, it sucks… but this isn’t the only world that kills its people." It’s almost as if life being unfair was a universal law no one could escape from, but it was cruel how often those at the short end of its stick didn’t deserve it.

"For some this is the only place where they can truly experience what living is like, instead of just waiting for their inevitable end."

A truth many of the veteran UI locked starcalled had been forced to embrace after so many years within the game, but one that wasn’t limited to just them either.

@Ash Vargold
 

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Aisling Lane



"You can't get five steps into this game without someone reminding you about it every fucking day."

The fact that Lúthien isn't "Luthien" anymore doesn't seem to phase Aisling. Anything might as well happen in this nightmare within a nightmare, and the similarities stand out more than the differences. "Yeah, because no one ever listens. Not until it's too late."

The memory projected against the fog is no flicker this time. Time and rumination has condensed it, sharpening the edges and saturating the colors. A nest of eyes and tentacles and the sharp smell of sea salt looms behind Aisling like a shadow. A memory of death - his death. Her death.

"It gets into your head. It makes you think it's the only answer to your problems. It makes you think this world is the only one worth living for. That it's worth dying for."


"And no matter how much I try, you all keep taking the bait. Just like I did."



And she was still paying that price.

There was more than anger in Aisling's voice as she maintained eye contact with... Lúthien? The player behind her? Someone that she desperately wanted to listen, because he'd known her long enough to care. She was mad, but more than that she was scared.

"I've been tracking the trail of death this game's left. I've seen how many people this game has taken. A lot of them were kids like you."


"I don't want to have to put you on that list, Lúthien. I don't want to learn your name from a goddamn obituary."



@Luthien
 
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It took everything in her to keep a small gasp from escaping as the fog condensed behind Aisling, gifting the elf with a first POV vision of the nightmares they must’ve endured back during the clash with Titanius. Tentacles writhe in the air as the strong scene of brine floods her nostrils, but it’s the vibrantly sharp eyes—not too dissimilar from the one she spotted against Ash’s chest in another memory a short while ago—what shook the blonde most.

". . ." She remained silent as she listened, her hands never straying away from Aisling’s or attempting to push the woman away as the redhead continued. She’s not a stranger to dying inside this game, and had experienced quite a few near death moments before one had finally done the blonde in, but she had yet to experience the same effects other veterans often talked about.

Nothing had changed in her UI either, and for countless days and nights the elf had wondered if perhaps the system had simply glitched out… had she fallen through a virtual crack on its database, or was it just biding its sweet time before it finally came to collect what it was owed?

The smart thing would’ve been to do as this woman said, stop playing the game and live off the rest of her life in the relative safety their own reality could offer… and maybe she would’ve if life had been more kind to her friend. No… that’s a lie, and you know it. Something else would’ve drawn her into TS instead, a different excuse masked as a convenient reason for why she needed to continue playing this game.

Truth of it was that she enjoyed this world too much, even with the high and permanent price tag that loomed over them all the time, for the blonde to give it up.

"I know… been following your blog for a while now." It hadn’t been hard to figure out who’d been publishing it, not when they’d used Ash’s last name as their username in it.

She wasn’t the first person to try and persuade her from diving into this death trap either, her own unnie had warned her time and time again too, and—while she hadn’t understood it as much back then—little by little she’d come to understand where they were coming from too.

"I don't want to have to put you on that list, Lúthien. I don't want to learn your name from a goddamn obituary."
"Alright, then stop running away and learn it face-to-face from me then."

There was no denying the fear that clung to the very edges of her voice as the redhead spoke, perhaps the same one that had kept her distant from the girls when they’d crossed paths in that con some time ago. It was probably the same one that caused Vargold to keep others at arm's length, though it never seemed to divert others from seeking him out—it certainly hadn’t stopped this particular elf at least.

It caused her hands to hold onto Aisling's just a bit tighter, as if trying to convey through touch that she was being earnest. "I’d like to know more about you—the real you that is—if you'd let me." Whether it was faith or just a string of coincidences didn’t truly matter.

At the end of the day all of the people closest to Val had deep ties with TerraSphere, and she’d always been genuinely curious about the player behind the green-haired caenis with yellow eyes.

@Ash Vargold
 

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"I know… been following your blog for a while now."

Aisling's grip trembled as she broke eye contant. Lúthien had seen her site, Aisling's desperate cry into the void. And she was still here.

"Seems like everyone I know does. I hoped that it might change something. I thought that if it could stop one person, save one life-"



"Then this would be worth something."
"Then I would be worth something."​

Aisling was tired. Tired of this situation, of this game. Of this fruitless, thankless mission. Her grip loosened, heart hammering as she finally released Lúthien's clothes.

Only for Lúthien's grip to tighten instead.

"Alright, then stop running away and learn it face-to-face from me then."

Aisling froze, breath hitching.

"I'd like to know more about you—the real you that is—if you'd let me."

Would she? Should she? Aisling had done everything she could to maintain the wall between reality and Terrasphere. Between player and avatar. Between Aisling and Ash.

"...but that wall keeps crumbling."


Aisling startled as "Ash" finished her thought, in that same flat voice. He still had the sword in one hand, but there was no threat there. There never had been, because that wasn't the kind of person Ash was.
(The kind of person she was. But when had she become that kind of person?)​

"You tell others not to be alone. So why do you keep running when they reach out to you? How will you protect them if you keep pushing them away?"


"You can't run forever. And after all this..."



"Ash" glanced sideways at Lúthien, and for a moment there was something in the look other than the emptiness that had haunted his face. A look of follow-my-lead that might flash between allies in the heat of a battle. And then it was gone, as "Ash" closed his eyes with a familiar look of exasperation.

"After all this, do you really think can outrun her?"


@Luthien
 

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She held onto those hands even after they’d released her clothes, the fast paced tremors within the redhead’s chest impossible to miss or ignore. They’d been through far more than she could probably imagine, the anonymous blog on the internet barely scratched the surface of it all no doubt, but perhaps the worst part of it was knowing they’d undoubtedly done most of it alone.

And loneliness was the true silent killer in both of their worlds.

"I can’t promise that I won’t grind your gears, or make you take a dee breath as you wonder what the fuck I’m up to at times," she said, feeling it was only fair to warn the redhead about the depths of the water she could be diving into. "But I can promise to be there for ya whenever possible, whether it’s in here or out there."

Her gaze shifted towards the caenis as he spoke again and, unsettling as it was to see an avatar speaking by themselves when their player was standing right before her, Val had to admit his words held wisdom and truth. His gaze shifted to her own avatar for a moment, the blonde elf still slumped at the caenis’ feet, and for a moment the life seemed to return into those yellow eyes…

"After all this, do you really think can outrun her?"
"Pffft!"

Well, he sure as hell wasn’t wrong. "Look me up when you finish diving, my handle’s ‘flor de maga’ in social media and streaming apps." She gave Aisling’s hand a comforting squeeze along with a gremlin grin, before her gaze turned back to their two avatars.

"That said… any clue on how we fix this?" Unfortunately dreamscapes didn’t bring personal manuals and instructions with them, but it was probably best to fix this up soon rather than later… before it started to collapse and the dream police got called in.

@Ash Vargold
 

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Aisling took a deep breath, letting the tension flow away with the exhale. Already she could feel her (his?) heartbeat settling into a familiar tempo. It was just as alien in her chest as the dissonant rattle, but it was hard to stop her thoughts from following their cue.

"Hah... Not sure what you'll get out of being friends with an old woman like me, but I guess there's no stopping you."



She finally turned to look towards "Ash". Not the patchwork of her nightmares, or the flashes seen in mirrors and reflective waters, but the one that other people saw. He was never meant to be more than a shield to protect herself from Terrasphere, but something had changed. He had changed, or maybe she had...

"Ash" held out his hand. Distantly, Aisling remembered that this had started as a "game" of tag. Not that it had ever felt like a game. "I think I've got an idea."

Ais took the offered hand. It felt strange, like she was holding her own. She looked up at Ash Vargold, a face that was both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, and nodded. "Tag-"



"-you're it.



"...I think I'm going to be sick."


Ash jolted into being with none of the gentle transistion of the standard login process. Thoughts and sensations jangled through his (her?) skull like stones against glass, trying to find their places. He stumbled backwards and his foot caught on Lúthien's prone form, sending him falling to the ground with a painful thud.

"Ow... sorry, Lúthien."


There was no strange, dreamlike mist. No memories dancing in the fog. Just the grey earth of the high march and the oddly desaturated sky. They were back in reality, whatever that meant in Terrasphere. "I think I'll just stay here until my head settles."

 

Luthien

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You’d think that, after going through this so many times, waking up would get easier… and you’d be wrong, or maybe she just hadn’t figured out the secret behind it yet. Her first inhale always came as a gasp of air, almost as if her body had forgotten that breathing was a thing it was meant to do until her consciousness returned.

"You and me both—!" Her words are cut as Ash’s foot fumbles and collides against her side, an audible groan escaping the blonde just as she hears his rump hit the ground not too far. "Don’t worry ‘bout it…"

The apology is waved off as the elf finally shifts into a sitting position, glad that the mist is no longer present as her eyes scan their surroundings warily. Last thing they need is getting ganged up by a pack of dire wolves or something after being passed out for who knew how long.

"Yeah, the first time’s always a bit rough." It was good to be back though, and at least this dreamscape hadn’t been a wild ride. "Deep breaths until you feel like yourself again."

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"Deep breaths until you feel like yourself again."

"Yeah? Which one?"



It was a joke, carrying none of the acerbic edge that Lúthien had been hearing in Aisling's voice. He automatically fell into the habit of parsing through his memories, trying to disentangle the before and after, but the dreamlike haze about them was making it difficult. One thing was clear, though...

"Uuuuugh. I shouldn't be trauma dumping on kids like that." Ash covered his face with one arm, hiding the red hue creeping across it. Sure, "he" had gone on about putting up walls and pushing people away, but there were limits to how open he should be, right? "That was embarassing..."

But at the same time, he felt... better. His heart was calm, but without the desperate edge he only now realized it usually had. He wasn't alone, but in a way that didn't feel transactional. "But... thank you for listening."

Yeah. This was good.

Ash sat up, smiling weakly at Lúthien, then rose to his feet. He wobbled a moment, getting used to being tall again, and then looked himself over with a growing look of confusion. He was back in his usual outfit, blood and all. Sure, that had been the case in the dream, but...

"...why did it change my clothes, anyway? I hate this place."



He shook his head. His tail wagged cheerfully as he offered Lúthien a hand to help her up, and he didn't bother to suppress it. "We should probably get out of here before something comes sniffing around. I know you want to learn about Dissonance, but there's better ways than walking into it blindly."

Ash had learned that one firsthand.

"But I can give you an overview of what I know on the way back. Deal?"

 

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"Mmm, that's a good question…" She could barely contain the grin away from her face as the elf attempted to keep a serious and thoughtful expression, playing along with his joke. "Probably Ash for now, otherwise it might be hard to move that tall avatar of yours around."

If whatever haze-like dream they’d been was to be believed their real life counterpart wasn’t much taller than herself and, knowing first hand how much Ash towered over her, Lúthien couldn’t imagine it would be easy to manage such a height and limb difference. Besides, joking was a good sign right?

It suited them better than the dark and gloomy expression she’d seen in the redhead’s face.

"Whaaat? And deny me the opportunity for a good ol’ trauma bonding? Naaah." This time she couldn’t contain her laughter, a melodic chime that sharply contrasted with their surroundings. Thankfully they’d been lucky enough to be left alone by whatever wild creatures still dared to call this place home, but that could always change at any moment.

A hand reached over to clasp against the caenis’ shoulder while he was still within reach, squeezing it in a comforting manner before she finally let go. "Besides that means I get a free pass when it's my turn~" After all, that’s what friends did for friends… right?

It was easier to get back on your feet when there wasn’t almost a whole foot of height difference between your true self and the crafted avatar they experienced TerraSphere through, but the hand offered by Ash was still appreciated after the caenis had found his balance once more.

"Who knows, maybe it's also a fan of that coat?" The lander ladies had certainly seemed for it, though the blonde was careful to keep that particular quip to herself for now. "Not gonna lie, you looked a bit weird without your usual threads… though they're definitely in need of some TLC."

Nothing that couldn’t be hopefully mended, and she knew a certain Yladian that always enjoyed a good challenge anyways. "We can pass by Malinornë Weaves later, on the off-chance that she can’t fix it I’m certain she could replicate them with ease." Probably upgrade it too if that was something Ash was interested in too.

The content tail wags didn’t go unnoticed, though the elf didn’t bring attention to them either as she nodded in agreement. Getting out of here while they were still technically winning was probably a good idea and, given the momentary glimpse of tentacles and eyes she’d witnessed, the ranger felt pretty confident that Ash had quite a bit of dissonance knowledge to share.

"Deal~"

@Ash Vargold
 
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"Hah, yeah. I made a lot of interesting choices when I first started playing." Ash opened up his inventory, swapping back to his previous outfit with a few taps. Walking around with a blood-soaked outfit wasn't a good idea, especially after wandering off into the wastes. "It's amazing the things you can get used to."

He shook the lingering dirt off his hair, then reached down to pick up the sword he'd dropped somewhere in the transition. He slid it it into his scabbard, then blinked as something caught his eye.

The mask lay on the ground, its bright colors contrasting with its surroundings. Ash hesitantly picked it up and looked at it. It had weight and texture, seemingly as real as anything else. He couldn't feel anything in it - as far as he could tell, it was nothing more than painted wood and thin cloth.

Still, Ash was struck with the desire to keep it. It might have been nothing more than a metaphor, but it could still be important. Possibly useful. Just in case...

"Besides that means I get a free pass when it's my turn~"

Ash glanced towards Lúthien, then back towards the mask. He let it slip from his fingers and turned towards her with a smile. "Of course. Though hopefully it doesn't involve quite as much," Ash gestured vaguely towards nothing in particular, "...of that."

Knowing this game, though... it probably would.

"Feels weird not to be wearing it, to be honest. I've basically had it since I started playing. It's been through a lot." He could probably identify every odd stain and shoddy stitch in it by now. "I usually patch it up myself, but a professional might be a good idea at this point."

He put the mask out of mind, along with the rest of the experience. There'd be time to process it later, once he was out of the game. He'd been diving for far too long by now, and wasn't looking forward to how sore she would be once she was out. But for now, that was a problem for future her.

"Right, lets start with the basics. Most of this started four years ago, when I was still new..."



As the two departed, silence settled upon the High March once more. A silence that was unbroken by the footsteps of a small figure walking towards a discarded mask. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands like a precious treasure.

"Hm~ I wonder when he'll come back for this? Perhaps someone should keep it safe."


The mask vanished into the boy's clothes, and he turned unseeing eyes towards the sky.

"That was fun. Let's play again soon."


Just as silently as he arrived, he was gone.

 
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