#questgiven

Quiet footsteps echoed in Nirvana. Steps a bit uneven, they were just here for company. That's all. Soon the Player comes into view. They're back.

It's been a while, definitely. Why were they even back? It stops in front of the king. It looks at him, gesturing a bit but it was hard to tell what it wanted.

[idk what I'm doing]

- @questgiven.

And he sits there again. Just as he always had. Surrounded by nothing. Nothing as far as the eye could see. Frost crept down the throne and filled the air, a dense fog that wasn't scary in the slightest.

No, it was comforting.

It's you again.

The king looks at you.

Player huffs, he was losing this battle. It was painfully obvious by its injuries, the way it stood unsteady, using its sword to keep itself up straight. This wasn't looking good. What was it even fighting anymore? He couldn't tell.... Looked like a pot with legs, a camel, and a pharaoh??? Something similar.

He looked tired, exhausted. It was on its way back to Shedletsky and these things ran up on her. She used what was left of his SP, pulling a card from his pocket and raising it up towards the sky.

[ Call Cruel King ]

It hoped that'd work. He's never used one of these, usually it didn't need to. But it did have King's, Griefer's, the Twins, and Calypso's.

- @questgiven .

He's cold.

He's always cold. It's not something that ever changes.

But today, something is different. A pull.

The Call Card.

He opens his eyes and is greeted with light.

It's different. New. He feels... solid, in a sense. Solid. Real. Urgent.

YOU are hurt. YOU are in danger.

He raises his hand in the direction of the enemy, feeling frost gather at his fingertips and into the chill metal in his hand.