So when I die (which I must do), Could it shine down here with you?
Canonical account from Mercury, a short amount of time before the round occurred.
Walking around the large backstage area was one of Mercury's favorite pastimes. Winding corridors, large machinery, isolated enough that they would largely be left alone, but near enough that if they were needed, someone could find him.
And that was just what Mercury needed right now. Space to breathe, space to think.
Mercury wasn't worried about losing, per se. Mercury was worried about Daian-how has he managed to keep his innocence? Who has shielded his eyes from the truth? They didn't understand it. And the worst part was, Mercury didn't want to be the person to pull the wool off of his eyes. That made him a coward, he knew, but the idea of seeing Daian scared and having him panic before the performance would be worse.
Still, came the dilemma. Did Mercury really want to see him die? They supposed they didn't have much choice in the matter. Though the idea made them feel sick, he knew that there was no use in hoping.
Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Someone had told him that once, she thinks. They don't remember who.
Deeper into the winding tunnels Mercury went, mind wandering amongst the vast expanse of similar-looking hallways, the same white and grey with the Alien Stage logo every once in a while. Occasionally, they would pause at a doorway and peer inside, just to see what was inside; mostly it was machinery, or an extra dressing room, or something of that nature.
But the next doorway Mercury stopped at was different. The door was slightly ajar, and Mercury could hear hushed voices on the inside. This made them pause, especially after realizing they recognized both voices.
Inside of the room seemed to be an armory of some sort: weapons, long-ish sticks that Mercury presumed were tasers, and collars, placed on hooks on top of the wall. In front of these columns of collars, were two familiar Segyein.
Caligula was standing beside Minski, looking at them with its ear flicking nonchalantly-Daian had once compared Caligula to an ancient human creature called a horse, and that comparison had never left Mercury's mind, even now.
And just what were they doing there? Sure, Minski was running the competition, so it's not a stretch for them to be there, but Caligula was explicitly not allowed on the premises. Nobody's Segyein were, so why's theirs here now?
They were standing next to a pair of collars in glass cases, each with their own label; Mercury read the pair of names on them almost like gravestones, or whatever Daian had called them. Places to mark where people in the past were laid to rest eternally.
The cases were both open; and Minski laid down a collar into the one labeled Daian.
"There, it is done," they said, eyes blinking at Caligula, who's ears perk up as a sign of satisfaction, which Mercury has been trained to recognize.
"Good," It says, joy unmistakable in its voice. "You've secured all of the votes then, yes?"
"Of course I have," Minski huffs. "I'm not the owner of Alien Stage to be powerless, you know."
"Then it is all set and done" Caligula says, joy turning into excitement. "We'll get our official collaboration after all, eh?"
"Watch the way you say that, Caligula. You're lucky im getting rid of the footage of you saying that. If someone, especially Daian's guardian were to find out…"
Caligula bristles, threat clearly identified as one of their hooves brush against the floor. "And if it were to go out that the owner of Alien Stage was rigging their own competition, you would most certainly lose your job, would you not?"
Minski glares at Caligula, taking the point without comment and turning away. "Come. We must prepare for the next round, too, if we wish for Mercury and Nadohan to compete against one another."
Their next words are lost as they leave through a separate door. Mercury doesn't think they'd be able to parse it through the churning in his stomach, anyway.
It was rigged. The entire round-and the next one, was the entirety of the competition rigged? Or just the next two?
More importantly; Daian was going to die. He was going to die without a fighting chance, without even knowing he was in danger.
Mercury stared at the cases, and stepped inside of the room.
This competition, while not honorable, was supposed to be fair. Was supposed to be based on talent, or whoever was good enough at convincing people to vote for them. But they were setting them up to win. Did the vote even matter? Was Daian doomed to die either way?
He had made up his mind from his dilemma earlier. He didn't want to see Daian die. Especially knowing that he would die. Knowing that he would be a willing lamb sent to be slaughtered for someone who doesn't deserve it.
They walked to the cases, and gingerly opened the lids. Swifty, careful enough to be unnoticeable, Mercury switches the collars.
Theoretically, if this had all been a misunderstanding, surely it wouldn't matter if they were switched. If the competition was supposed to be fair.
But if Mercury was to believe what they had heard, what they had seen-they couldn't stand by and just watch. Couldn't just let Daian die, knowing he could have done something about it.
Mercury leaves the room swiftly, taking a deep breath as they go.
No matter what happened, they would sing. No matter what happened, they had to protect Daian. No matter the cost.
