Yeah. We've got a basis for it, we just... need to find it. We've been sort of playing it by ear, so this is one of the first times we'll be trying for something really specific. As long as it works the same way...
[He shrugs, then closes his eyes, focusing inwardly as he'd done before, to call out to the memories, passing through the wall-now-turned-curtain of his soul that previously sealed those memories away thanks to the help of Pyra's crystal. The weight of them welcomed him, but he wasn't overwhelmed by them, still cradled safely by the supporting beams of her power. It gives him the strength to look deeper, fixated on the guidelines he and Ardyn had managed to figure out during their conversation.
Ravatogh. Solheim ruins. The Astral War. Ifrit. What were those magitek fields meant to guard?
It takes a little while, the silence dragging on longer than it ever has before, but slowly the shades of grey and brown begin to bleed through the nebula around them, forming rocks, lumpy terrain, a path leading downwards from a gloomy hill. The golden rays of fading daylight burning out the blue to create a new sky. A stone structure pieces itself together, like fragments of a mirage building upwards. Stairs. Rusty ancient metal gates. A gap between segments, and pillars with motifs reminiscent of simple Solheim design. It's smaller than any other ruin any of them would have come across, deceptively simple, but it carries with it an air of... something hard to define. Significance? Urgency? Longing? Noct's brows furrow, trying to parse the wave of emotions that this memory brings to the surface. This place... wants to be found, yet at the same time it rejects their presence. It makes him want to recoil but his curiosity burns, almost painfully, calling him forward. There's a siren song in his blood. He needs to know what's inside.
The Chosen is here.
A Lucis Caelum has arrived.
Death is here but cannot leave. Walk without fear.
...This is... [He opens his eyes at last, gazing up the set of stairs that awaits them, one hand pressed to his chest, trying to shake off that mixed feeling of urgency and dread.] I don't get it. This is just a memory, but it knows we're here.
no subject
[He shrugs, then closes his eyes, focusing inwardly as he'd done before, to call out to the memories, passing through the wall-now-turned-curtain of his soul that previously sealed those memories away thanks to the help of Pyra's crystal. The weight of them welcomed him, but he wasn't overwhelmed by them, still cradled safely by the supporting beams of her power. It gives him the strength to look deeper, fixated on the guidelines he and Ardyn had managed to figure out during their conversation.
Ravatogh. Solheim ruins. The Astral War. Ifrit. What were those magitek fields meant to guard?
It takes a little while, the silence dragging on longer than it ever has before, but slowly the shades of grey and brown begin to bleed through the nebula around them, forming rocks, lumpy terrain, a path leading downwards from a gloomy hill. The golden rays of fading daylight burning out the blue to create a new sky. A stone structure pieces itself together, like fragments of a mirage building upwards. Stairs. Rusty ancient metal gates. A gap between segments, and pillars with motifs reminiscent of simple Solheim design. It's smaller than any other ruin any of them would have come across, deceptively simple, but it carries with it an air of... something hard to define. Significance? Urgency? Longing? Noct's brows furrow, trying to parse the wave of emotions that this memory brings to the surface. This place... wants to be found, yet at the same time it rejects their presence. It makes him want to recoil but his curiosity burns, almost painfully, calling him forward. There's a siren song in his blood. He needs to know what's inside.
The Chosen is here.
A Lucis Caelum has arrived.
Death is here but cannot leave. Walk without fear.
dontcomeindontcomeinCOME IN
M̴͇̯̟̮̠̞̰̞̣̦͗͋̑̃͑͜͝ ̴̨̫̪̺̝̺͔̩͗̽̆̅Ą̷̟͔̱̦̯́̚̚ ̸̠͇̘̣͈̦̬͌̊͒̏͊̅͘̚̕͝S̶̟͖̟̮̮̼͎̱̗͖̀̏̐͑͜ ̶̡̢̱̟̉̔̐̄̌̄̊̓̐̓Ţ̷̛̜͙̭͉̺̲̫̥͍̅͋ͅ ̸̨̧̯̲͕̜̥̮͙̏̐͊̓̈́Ȅ̴̩̙̬̩̱͕̤̩̘̪̤͔ ̴͔̩̮̼̄͊̔̔̑̕R̴̨̰͖̟̝͇̰̃̊̓̿̎̆̇̈̆́̀̈͘͘ ̸̡̛̩̼̙̤͕̬̋̀̄̒̂͒̐͑̅̚͘͠͝͝Ȉ̷̧̥̗̰͚̳̜͖̭̠͓̳̥͑̃͗͋̊̊͐͝͝ͅͅ ̶͇̼͙͙͌Ŝ̴̠͙̭̰͎̤̫̺̥̼͉͔̝̼͛͆̅̔̃͌̉̏̕͠ͅ ̷̟͙̜̗͒̀͗͘͠H̵̨̙̜͓̱͈̙̲̾̋͊̑͗̃͘ͅ ̵̟̖͚̲̲̣̄͊͒̋̋̂̓̌̃̀͗͋̓͜E̵̳͔̻͖̠̖̹̳̰̣̻̺̳̾́ ̵͍̝͎̰̬̜̪͉̝̳͇̀͋͐̏̇̀͌̾͋̅̈́̈́̚͠R̴̺̖̞͈̝͙̈͂͛ ̴̮̟̹̟͚͙̍͒͊̄̎̋͂͠E̶̡̤̥̪̘͕͛͂̈́́́̔͋͂͘]
...This is... [He opens his eyes at last, gazing up the set of stairs that awaits them, one hand pressed to his chest, trying to shake off that mixed feeling of urgency and dread.] I don't get it. This is just a memory, but it knows we're here.