[ as you drift off to sleep, everything seems normal. when you open your eyes again, it's pretty clear that's not the case.
you're in... a city, of some kind. one more like the town you'll awaken to later than the one you came from originally. it's eerily quiet, and a quick glance around explains why - bodies litter the footpaths, hang over balconies, sit still in their cars. thankfully, all of them appear to be uninjured and breathing. this is a blanket of deep sleep, rather than a massacre.
right ahead of you is a massive pillar of light, and you watch as five figures begin to disappear into the brightness. five figures, none tall or broad enough to be adults.
one younger familiar face looks back before he reaches the edge of it, and tips his head, inviting you to walk with him. ]
[ it's definitely chrono, but rounder-faced and much shorter-statured than the one you know. he's maybe two or three years younger, you think. he looks up with recognition anyway, brow creased with anger. ]
Judgement, apparently.
[ his voice is bitter, and he turns and walks into the light with a hand outstretched behind him, beckoning. ]
[ as they cross the threshold of the pillar, chrono's appearance changes to that of the one shadowheart knows. taller, more mature, and now looking drawn and worried more than angry.
within the light, a spiral of ruins rises above. you stand on a massive clock face, cracked through. ]
...this is an old dream. [ he looks to her, surprised, even though the younger face on the outside had not been. ] Shadowheart?
[ he looks up. gravity seems to be only partly maintained here, but it's still probably up. high, high above, there's another platform made of many interlocking gears. ]
I fought here, a while back. The man who created it wanted to make his "ideal future".
One man's ideals shouldn't dictate the truth of the world, even if it was supposed to be "peace". [ sighs, and stares at his hands for a moment. ] The price to pay for it was the death of another world entirely.
[ her question has him frowning for a moment before he realises. ]
Oh. They're in here, too. Fighting their own battles.
I'm not sure. Seemed like it, at first - felt like being electrocuted. But sometimes I wonder, y'know?
[ a vague, contemplative hum. ]
The man who made this used an energy called Stride Force. Everyone has it, but just a little, usually. It's what's made when you visualise something. To use it the way he did - to force those images into reality - it cut his lifespan. It's not supposed to be used like that. [ ... ] The damage done to me might be similar, since this whole stupid place is pure Stride Force, and I'd used it the same way before even coming here.
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w6 tuesday night
you're in... a city, of some kind. one more like the town you'll awaken to later than the one you came from originally. it's eerily quiet, and a quick glance around explains why - bodies litter the footpaths, hang over balconies, sit still in their cars. thankfully, all of them appear to be uninjured and breathing. this is a blanket of deep sleep, rather than a massacre.
right ahead of you is a massive pillar of light, and you watch as five figures begin to disappear into the brightness. five figures, none tall or broad enough to be adults.
one younger familiar face looks back before he reaches the edge of it, and tips his head, inviting you to walk with him. ]
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Chrono? [she's hurrying over to him, especially after seeing this.] What happened?
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Judgement, apparently.
[ his voice is bitter, and he turns and walks into the light with a hand outstretched behind him, beckoning. ]
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[hurrying after him, worried.]
What do you mean by judgment?
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within the light, a spiral of ruins rises above. you stand on a massive clock face, cracked through. ]
...this is an old dream. [ he looks to her, surprised, even though the younger face on the outside had not been. ] Shadowheart?
no subject
[she'll stay close to him as they walk through the ruins.]
Tell me, what is this place?
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[ he looks up. gravity seems to be only partly maintained here, but it's still probably up. high, high above, there's another platform made of many interlocking gears. ]
I fought here, a while back. The man who created it wanted to make his "ideal future".
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[ her question has him frowning for a moment before he realises. ]
Oh. They're in here, too. Fighting their own battles.
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[ rubs at his chest. ugh ]
It hurt my actual soul, as well as my body.
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no subject
[ a vague, contemplative hum. ]
The man who made this used an energy called Stride Force. Everyone has it, but just a little, usually. It's what's made when you visualise something. To use it the way he did - to force those images into reality - it cut his lifespan. It's not supposed to be used like that. [ ... ] The damage done to me might be similar, since this whole stupid place is pure Stride Force, and I'd used it the same way before even coming here.