GAME OVER

At least, not yet.”

Another step, though this one crackled a bit less than the previous. For a moment, the figure ceased his heavy vibrations. He realized this immediately however, and quickly shifted his postured, holding up the power cell for her to see. Keep her attention where he needed it to be. "Our fates, as loosely as they may be, are intertwined. As far as thorns go, you’ve rather effectively embedded yourself into my side on more than one occasion." It was one of the few things she did excel at.  "But, if you want to figure out what that means, then you’re going to have to catch me, Alexandra." He turned away, just a bit, kicking his heel on the ground as his body began to vibrate once more. Again, he held up the battery.

"Regardless of what you choose to do, however, your only hope of repairing that machine lies with me. I’d hop to it if I were you.

Before I send your kingdom crumbling down.”

At this, the figure began to vibrate with such a ferocity that the pocket dimension itself began to fluctuate in such a way that created rifts in the dimensions. Holes leading out into the depths of space began to appear within the cathedral, and as such, the connection that this plane of existence had with it was starting to sever. It was becoming very clear that if he was left here much longer, there wouldn’t be a pocket dimension to save.

The second reason, however… "I’m here to take you home," the figure said, body crackling wildly even as the dimension continued to twist and distort around him. Speaking of speed usage, he would need to keep control of the conversation while they were here. Too much wasted time and the both of them might end up in trouble. So, yes, blunt statements would have to do. However, that alone was not going to allow him safe passage from this dimension. "Whether or not I get you there alive, however, is of little consequence." One single step was taken forward, and with it, the entire cathedral seemed to creak and moan with how much intense pressure was being put on it from all directions. His presence was doing awful things to the entire pocket dimension. "I have what I need. What is it that you need, Chuffy?”

You are now the Condescending and Vague Asshole. And you never really were fond of Second Person Storytelling. Within the depths of Cathedral stood the strange visitor, body pulsing with an intensity that shook the very fabrics of space and time around them. It was as if, just by simply existing in this pocket of space, that they were ripping it apart at the seams. This was half-true, to be certain.

But the girl, her hold was strong. Godly, one might say. That said, her power was not insurmountable. For now, however, it was serving a very important purpose.

The moment she came crashing through the doors leading into the altar, however, he did not run. He did not zip away, to continue this futile chase. That was a waste of speed, a waste he simply could not afford at this stage of the process. No, he had already cast out his line, he just needed her to bite onto the hook. She wouldn’t attack yet anyway. She couldn’t take that risk, could she? "You kept me waiting," he said, voice distorted simply by the vibrations emitting from his body. "It’s been a long time since our last encounter…"

'Alexandra'.

The name rang through the cathedral, every word exchanged amplified in echo. That name in particular was one that nobody should have known.

That name belonged to somebody who simply didn't exist anymore. Somebody who was on Earth, before it ceased to be.

Confusion came crashing down upon the bride. The pocket dimension quivered under the shock. It struggled to recover from the blow it had taken, the skies above shifting colours at unbelievable paces.

But it didn't matter. This intruder knew her.

This man must have been on Earth. For a moment, hope spread through her. Somebody who could help her. Somebody clearly from Earth. Rude as they may be, they could help.

But that excitement fell from the bride's features when she caught sight of what the intruder was holding, clutched tightly in his hands. Sycamorebot's internal battery.

It's not yours. It's not Sycamorebot's. It's not Eziosprite's.