Not necessarily, we can't warn them if there's danger you see. If you could allow us to communicate with them, it would be rather appreciated. ~❄️
The world around us has been frozen... for a very, very long time. It’s bright, blindingly so, as if all darkness was sworn away completely from this place. Safety has returned.
This disembodied voice, hauntingly ancient yet still so desperately naive, an unforseen hand not unlike that of the Messenger--wherever he is now--stitches together time and brings us here. The present. It’s time.
Communicate with them? Alright. If that will make you happy.
Life breathes into the world; light becomes dark. And Karl and Sapnap...whose eyes at first seemed dull and frozen...
return to an attention one of them doesn’t realize they lost.
Before them sits a large door, a finnicky metal thing that would under normal circumstances lead to a way out. They had been walking before your--no, our--pause.
Sapnap shakes his head, feeling stiff for reasons unknown. “Is this it?”
“Yes,” Karl agrees, with the decisive glare of someone who has been frozen here for a month and had the ability to decide. “We’re here.”
He takes a moment to glance behind him, at you, because you too have flickered back into motion. He musters a wave, flexing his fingers that are sore like the rest of him, begging for a timeless rest. “And we’re not alone, either. Look.”
Sapnap turns, millimeters before knocking, and gawks at your presence. “You’re here!” he near-shouts with a grin. “Hi.”
His hand dances between knocking and waving hello to you, little firefly. Maybe he’s nervous. He repeats himself, “Hi, hi,” and Karl grabs his wrist and takes one fleeting step towards you.
He’s... oddly serious when he asks, “Where... Where have you been?”