Only a Crack in This Castle of Glass

[tyrants_son]

WHO: Felwinter and you
WHERE: Here, you never left
WHAT: Exploring the past of a warlord
WHEN: Calibrations Event
WARNINGS: Warsat involves Robo-death


The former observatory has been preserved better than most places during the Collapse, at least from what little can be seen as one steps down the hall. The air is crisp, chilly, and a glimpse out of a passing window reveals why- a windswept landscape nearly whited out by flurries lies beyond, the snow broken by lines of dark craggy rock and jagged terrain of the surrounding mountains. Turning around only greets you with a strangely blurred wall. It looks like there's only one way to go, and as deceptively long as it appears, things shift within the next few steps. The hallway itself opens up to a larger room, converted into a throne room if the large, gothic chair is anything to go by. A fireplace crackles off to the side, though it does little to alleviate the chill.

If he's not sitting in that throne, then Felwinter can be found standing, staring at the fire or some of the scant things found around the room. On a long table not far from the fireplace sits an old, battered book that's certainly seen better days. At the table's foot, a sad looking wooden crate, filled with even sadder looking, meager pickings of a crop. By far these things are amongst the more normal things that could possibly be reasonably found in such a place.

Off to the farthest side however sits a massive warsat that couldn't have possibly been brought in by any normal means, and no gaping hole in the roof to suggest it had come crashing in through there. Against the wall near it is a smooth black surface that reveals itself to be a computer console once one passes their hand over it.

Comments

[kree_soldieress]

This wasn't her first night, so waking up here means that Lauri-Ell at least has some idea of what's going on. And she's learned respect. The woman, upon arriving, takes some time to orient, and when she finds a blurred wall she sighs. No escape there. So she turns to the hall and starts down it, pausing only when she sees Felwinter on the throne.

This is something she knows how to handle at least. She has etiquette training for meeting nobility and royals. So the woman goes to one knee, head bowed in respect.

"Good day to you, lord. Forgive my intrusion upon your domain. It is not an action of my will. I am Lauri-Ell, Accuser of the Kree, and for the moment, guest in your domain."

[tyrants_son]

Felwinter lifts his head from the fist he'd propped it upon. It takes him a moment to place the woman, not someone from home for there are very few who can climb to this peak, but from Elsewhere.

"...you were at the diner," he says. "Quentin Beck's trial. There's no need for ceremony here. I am no lord."

The latter is more of weary insistence and habit, but he doesn't seem to care too much either way. He can't stop people from using titles, that had not been his purpose in claiming this place.

[kree_soldieress]

"Yes, you were the one who was to be his guard. I have heard you were tricked and betrayed. I apologize for not having been there to support you."

She does rise to her feet though, looking around before stepping closer.

"This is another dream. A place that is known to you?"

[tyrants_son]

The reluctant warlord shakes his head. "There are things in play that I did not understand. I don't think the matter has yet been dealt with."

He casts a look around the room, wishing it made him feel at ease to be in somewhere familiar, but he knows better. "Yes," he says softly. "This is a former warlord's keep that I have since claimed. I wanted somewhere that I could not be bothered." Somewhere that he didn't have to keep looking over his shoulder, or anxiously keep an eye on the skies.

[kree_soldieress]

"I hope to render you assistance when the time to deal with it arrives."

The formality of knowledge is comfortable to her in this setting, so she falls back upon it.

But she moves around the place now, looking about.

"Why did you seek to not be bothered?"

[tyrants_son]

There were other moving pieces in this Beck mess, so it was difficult for Felwinter to even know how to proceed, even with someone offering to help. You didn't have to do that. Faintly he heard Tony's words ring in his head, distant as though the recent memories of the waking world were farther than those of the past that were represented here in this room.

"If you have never known peace since the day you first found consciousness, wouldn't you seek a place of solitude?"

He watched her look around, but he himself eased back against the throne.

[kree_soldieress]

"Yes," she thought. "But I would get bored. I was created to be around others of my kind. I am a soldier made and raised."

She does move to touch the book though, hoping to read it.

[tyrants_son]

Felwinter straightened then, but otherwise did not speak.

A giant library stands around him, one he does not recognize. Its ceilings are tall, giving the space an open feeling. He can barely make out the ancient frescos above, cracked, faded. He stands, stiff, dazed. He can't remember anything.

A silver, starlike drone flits around him, insistent. "Listen to me very carefully. They're coming for you. They'll ask you for a name. Your name is Felwinter."

"I don't think that's my name," he says carefully, still taking things in, still trying in vain to make anything of this place. Large, gilded shelves surround him, mostly broken, their contents long spilled to the floor, much the same view within the immediate vicinity, tattered books and broken cases. He barely notices the spine of a book give beneath his feet as he starts to walk around.

"I know you don't trust me," the drone says as it follows him. "But you have no choice. Who else have you got?"

His steps slow to a stop. "I don't know," Felwinter says. There's a disturbing blankness beyond his awakening. "I don't know anything."

The little drone slips in front of him. "Exactly. So you should listen to me. You're stubborn, obviously. But if we stay here long enough, you're gonna die."

How is this little thing so certain? Felwinter tries to ignore it- her, as he tries to in vain to remember something, anything. Why was he here? What had happened? His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of an explosion, its reverberation causing dust to shake loose from the ceiling. He looks up, anxious.

"See?" The drone again. "This is what I mean. We have to go. A place like this isn't safe."

As if underlining what she says, the library around them begins to respond. An old computer terminal nearby flickers to life as the building trembles around them again. 'Site-wide lockdown, initiated,' comes the distorted recording of a female voice over a PA system that likely hasn't been active in years. The first message is followed by a second, a male voice calmly reassuring the impossible. 'All library patrons please report to the nearest emergency station. If you require assistance, an attendant can help you at the reception de—'

Everything cuts out at another, stronger impact. Straining metal sounds as old armored shutters begin to lower over exposed windows, ancient joints trying to remember how to function. Debris rains down as something else hits the library. Felwinter ducks, looking around in alarm, and this time he has no objection when the drone suggests, "We should hide."

They make their escape, dodging cascades of falling books and rubble, not stopping until well away from the doomed library. Crouching in the ruins of another building, they watch as it looks like stars have been hurled down to earth, thoroughly obliterating what's left of the library.

"See," his new companion says.

[kree_soldieress]

Ruins. Things falling. Destruction and being alone...

"This is too much like home," Lauri-Ell says, her voice straining from her distress. "To see such destruction is horrible. Why would something, or someone, destroy this place?"

[tyrants_son]

The Exo sat silently for a moment. He remembered that day, long, long ago as it was.

"...the location was not the target," he finally said. "Much of the world was already in ruins, cities that used to be teeming with people, long desolate even before. What caused that incident and the one you saw are however not connected."

[kree_soldieress]

She still looked distressed, pacing in agitation.

"Knowledge lost, and for what? And how is your world in ruins? Were you attacked?"

[tyrants_son]

"I don't have that answer."

Felwinter finally extracted himself from his seat, stepping away from the throne. "All I know for sure is that previously humanity had flourished, and then suddenly nearly everything was wiped out. I do not have a specific timeframe for how long has passed since then and my reawakening."

[kree_soldieress]

"There things can end quickly. Entire cities destroyed in instants. It is great grief."

It's familiar grief to her, and she aches to think of it. And unfortunately she can't stop thinking of it.

"Does it get better? Your world?"

[in_extremis]

The sudden chill felt tight in Tony's stomach. It had him clenching his fists, then wrapping his arms around himself with a wary shiver as he approached a window, squinting to try to see through the snow, figure out where he was and if he really was about to be buried. He was still holding himself against the chill when he stepped out of the hall, but his shoulder slowly relaxed as he considered this room, with a slight nod at the sight of Felwinter like he had just confirmed a quaint theory.

His gaze lingered on that big...thing on the other side of the room, making him chew his lip curiously, searching for any context for what exactly Felwinter was doing with it. If he seemed too obviously eager, though, Felwinter might actually try to stop him, so even as he stared he let his feet carry him at a confident saunter toward the chair, like he did absolutely belong there when he poured himself into it.

"Cozy," he admired lightly.

[tyrants_son]

The warlord glanced over his shoulder, seeming unsurprised to find himself with another visitor. He did turn as he saw who it was, although equally unsurprised by the fact that Tony invited himself to settle into his throne.

"Is it?" He never really gave much thought about how comfortable the chair was. It just seemed right.

"Welcome to my keep, I suppose," he offered then, although he felt fine remaining where he stood, for the moment.

[in_extremis]

"No," Tony admitted immediately, settling in with his head propped in one hand and ankles crossed like he might actually stay there for longer than it took for his nose to wrinkle briefly with the revelation that Felwinter didn't actually know the difference. He gave a quick, impatient nod at the greeting, though did glance around then trying to figure out what was actually out of place, part of the dream, and not part of Felwinter's real environment. It did make sense that this was where he kept himself. Even the weird parts.

That was about as long as Tony could keep still, and he was up and moving again by the time he conceded to ask, "Is it always like this?," both hands flung out to gesture at the...everything. Stalking across the room then just made sense, of course, Felwinter had practically invited him to help himself, and that big hunk of metal made for something of a focal point in the decor.

[tyrants_son]

He had begun to wonder how long Tony would sit there, and so when the man finally did stand, Felwinter only nodded to himself. The question was both unusual and not, and as Tony started across the room, the warlord walked parallel to him.

"No," he admitted, casting the briefest glance around. "Usually it's emptier." But it was...home, of a sort. Seeing that huge thing looming in what was supposed to be sanctuary was particularly vexing and given its obvious mismatch for the rest of the place, no wonder that anyone would be drawn to it.

The thing was most certainly manmade, ominous in a way despite it doing nothing but sitting there. The symbol marking it was subtle, but Felwinter couldn't help but feel it was mocking him, even if this was but a facsimile of the observatory on his mountain peak.

[in_extremis]

Felwinter walking along with him did make Tony feel chased, not helping his assumption that Felwinter was likely to stop him from unspooling the secrets of this place and making him consciously try not to look like he was hurrying while he very much wanted to make a run for the machine. "Something more tasteful here, then," he surmised as he approached it, both hands up to encompass it like he was just thinking about how Felwinter kept his room appointed and how to best maximize the space for all of that nothing he had. Then Tony slapped both hands to the metal, searching just as much for what it did as what it did.

breaking this up

[tyrants_son]

It was definitely not the effect he'd had in mind. He should have realized right off the start. Of course something new and mechanical would capture the man's attention. "I would not call this 'tasteful'," he said, his steps quickening just a little, unfortunately not taking much away from the reminiscence of a tiger prowling after its prey.

"Stark-" he began in warning as he saw the man move to apply his hands to the warsat, but it was the last thing heard as Felwinter's Peak was replaced by a wide open wilderness, stretching for miles with nothing in sight.

You've been traveling for a few days and come across no one. It's the third night that you see it as you and the drone continue along, and you turn your head towards the dark skies to see the trailing lights of something. Meteors? It's a sight to see, certainly, and you can't help but be somewhat awed by it...at least until one in particular begins to grow larger as its point of descent becomes more clear. It's coming right towards you.

"Run," the little silvery drone says, and though you're still not sure how much you trust it, you have no room to argue as you take the suggestion. The first meteor hits the ground just behind you with an impact that makes the ground shudder beneath your feet, and as you glance back you see it's no meteor at all. Something metal. Something man-made.

That's all you have time to register before the heat of the next comes bearing down upon you...

[in_extremis]

It was as though he had been rerouted, suddenly forced to integrate a distinct awareness of where he was and what he was supposed to be doing and odds with the sound of the crackling fire or the cold metal under his hands. It was dysmorphic, and disorienting, without a lot of confidence to reach for even with this new consciousness to explain his purpose. One thing they can agree on is that awe, Tony wanting to stop and consider these streaking stars, a sky that was so much more familiar than the one he had been living under for too long, yet strange and so bright.

It felt like his program was lagging, still staring when he was suddenly running, the body he didn't feel properly connected to carrying him forward until the rumble of the impact jolted him in sync again.

Of course, it was a satellite. Impressively durable, too. Probably more likely to survive an impact than his skull in a fight.

[tyrants_son]

A fact proven in the next instant as blackness engulfed him.

SLAM.

The pain is everything although thankfully short. The next instance is like trying to drag your head out from underwater, accompanied by disjointed flashes of images flitting through your mind. A frozen wasteland. A desolate library. Light flares around you and you stumble to your feet, out of the crater of another satellite's impact. The little drone urges you to hurry, and you try to do so despite feeling like every step is a lead weight and--

SLAM.

Light flares, a somehow familiar warmth. Images of people you don't ever recall meeting. Snippets of music from a time long ago. You stagger forward--

SLAM.

Light. A voice shouting at you. "Watch out!" it says. Something's overhead-

SLAM.

Light. You fight past the fragmented memories, distractions that mean nothing at the moment, if they ever did. People and places that probably don't exist anymore. You move, and if you had flesh and bones then maybe this would account for the same as muscle memory, this urgency to hurry, to run. Not enough--

SLAM.

You stumble forward in a wash of shimmering light, pushing aside the confusion as your body remembers only one thing in this moment. You need to move--

SLAM.

The flare of light dissipates as you stagger forth. Behind you, six looming masses, smoldering in the crisp night air, the latest still glowing with its dying heat from atmospheric entry. You turn your head forward, focus on one foot in front of the other, dreading the renewed glow that throws your shadow out before you. Desperation fuels you to throw yourself forward, not far enough as the next satellite hits, and this time there is no blissful blackness to cut the pain short as it throws you forward and continues to threaten to crush you into the ground, pieces of it breaking off with the impact.

[in_extremis]

The disconnect between Tony's body and his awareness made every move feel like some deeply coded instinct, the ones that he couldn't fight and didn't even know how to; didn't even know how to scream his frustration. The one thing he should have still had control over, the thing that he always had control over, wasn't even his anymore, he realized as that incredible agony bore down on him and this time he had to bear it, this time he had to feel the heat and that pressure instead of the darkness and that bloom of light, that had him sure that dying would be better than this. That was the key. He wasn't being allowed to die.

What a curse to realize more than once.

[tyrants_son]

Somehow...you're still alive, crawling out from the last satellite's wreckage as that's all you can manage to do until you claw your way free of that crater, leaving a trail of parts that used to be attached. This time you don't look back, spurred by fear that more may still come, even as you struggle to run to the first shelter that presents itself.

You all but collapse within the cave, dragging yourself further within. "Nrrp..." Words refuse to form, as though even they wish to smother you as choke on each attempt. "Rrrn. Mnnr."

The little drone is there, a light emitting from its eye-like core, scanning over you. "I can't fix you. That last hit corrupted write-protected processes in your cognition modules," it informs.

"Nnnr?"

"You're an Exo. Exos were made in the Golden Age, with proprietary tech," the drone replies, looking a little uneasy, if only by its movements. "I can't hack into your head to fix the damage, but I can rebuild you as you were. If you shot yourself, I could work quicker."

Another death would be welcome compared to this. Or would it? There's little other option. You can't function this way. You drag your gun from its holster, and before you can change your mind, pull the trigger...


The light fades around you as you come to, but all the same, you crumple to your knees, dropping your face into your hands. Your body feels like it still aches from the memory of each death just moments ago, but you know that's impossible.

"Why is this happening?" you ask, looking up at the drone. "Because of you? It's after you, isn't it?" you press, trying to discern anything from its movements, the way it carries itself.

"No," the drone replies before continuing, "I don't know why." How much is truth? But what reason would this thing have to lie? You don't know. You don't know anything, ever since you awoke to its insistence to move. The little drone softens its tone as it admits, "The Traveler told me to save you. That something was different about you."

"That ball in the sky you showed me? It talked to you?"

"I can't explain it."

Frustrating. You wince, once again cradling your head in your hands. "Can you explain anything?"

"Not really."

Silence falls between the two of you, and outside things are just as still. A minor comfort, and yet neither of you are reassured in the least. The drone breaks the silence first. "We shouldn't stay in one place for very long. I don't think it's safe."

You stare at the ground, reluctantly agreeing though you don't say as much. "How will I sleep?" you ask as you look up at your strange companion.

"You don't need to."

"But I want to."

"That's fine."

It was here that the cave would begin to fade around Tony, overlapping with a chill that did not sync up with the memory as he'd eventually find himself where he'd been all this time, standing there in front of the warsat sitting in Felwinter's throne room.

[in_extremis]

It wasn't the chill that had Tony's teeth chattering; he hardly felt it, still detached like he had no control over this body, the scream still caught in his chest where it hammered like it would break out of his ribs if it couldn't burst out of his mouth. That was his heart, he realized belatedly, realized then that it had been gone and now struggled through an untenable rhythm as Tony tried to push the feeling back into his fingers, take a breath, stop his shivering and get control of his knees before they buckled. Watching the memories as they had happened in these rooms had been, Tony told himself, a necessary discomfort, knowledge that would help more than it hurt to carry. None of them had felt like that.

He was drawn in tightly around himself by the time he managed to finally look Felwinter's way, a small twist of his shoulders, and his eyes darting cautiously, searching for the Ghost that he thought was supposed to help. The cruelty in their pointed design was suddenly so evident.

"Why?" He didn't know how much that Felwinter's lingering confusion still held him, and how much of the question was actually his own, but it was the only word he could manage yet. Did Felwinter even know what Tony had just seen?

[tyrants_son]

The warlord hadn't gotten much farther than where he'd been when he'd attempted to halt the man from making contact with the warsat. His shoulders hunched as though seized up in mid-cringe, he brought a shaky hand against his helmeted face. Those memories were amongst some of his oldest, and although it wasn't something he felt he could ever forget, it seemed to bloom afresh, like it had just happened yesterday.

He forced himself to relax, as much as he ever was able to, anyway. His head lifted towards Stark, and finally he continued forward, although almost hesitantly now, as though he half expected the warsat to try and conduct a repeat of what they'd just seen.

"...I still have no clear answers," he admitted quietly, his voice sounding somewhat more hollow than usual. He stopped beside the massive construct, looking towards the insignia there. "Do Warminds exist in your time, Stark?"