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Chapter Text

For once, he was glad the wooden material of the doll couldn't feel the cold, that the frost couldn't freeze his nerves, and that the icicles that froze onto that awful body didn't hurt him. It did little to improve Lloyd’s mood, however, as he stomped into the room, pulling out his chair with far more force than was necessary — although, as the doll, it was still barely any strength at all, compared to what it used to be.

David the bird tweeted in annoyance at being woken, sending a glare far colder than any bird should be able to give, before tucking its head back under its wing. Even the damn bird was complaining. Great. It didn't care that its owner was stressed beyond belief, trying day after day to put his plans in motion. It didn't care that its owner was growing determined enough to discard the lives of humans he didn't know without a second thought, desperate to get back to the bird's namesake. It didn't care that Lloyd had to grow colder and colder each day to deal with-

“You don't have to.” Came a voice that made him flinch, even in the doll body. “You just do. Every single day, you do, trying to chase an impossible goal.”

Lloyd turned, as fast as the doll would allow him, its creaking joints and rickety cogs screaming in protest, to stare at the woman. She wasn't how Lloyd had last seen her, a horrifying monster of meat and gore, screaming incoherent sounds of delight at the illusion of victory - instead, she looked eerily akin to the young woman they had taken in, far before she had begun to twist into something unrecognisable.

“Why are you here?” He spat. Sarah raised her hands in mock surrender, although the expression on her face showed no hesitation. Her hair gleamed a glowing white, even in the dim light of the room, and her skin was paler than he had ever seen it. “Why aren't you trapped? How did you get out?”

“I just want to talk, Lloyd.” She said, remaining unbothered. “You can't hurt me, and I sure as hell can't hurt you like this.”

“Like what?” Lloyd asked, but as his low-quality vision swam in the unworldly light, he thought he knew. “Why are you a ghost?”

“Honestly? No idea. The metaverse wanted to tell you something, and for some reason, it picked me to do it. I suppose I have nothing better to do while the Mother is in charge.”

“But… you are the Mother, aren't you? You made yourself-”

“As much as David made himself into Raven, I suppose. Or as much as you're making yourself into an angry mess of a man - or, well, an angry mess of a doll would be a more apt descriptor.” She smirked, looking Lloyd up and down. “Really? A scratch?”

“Shut up.”

Sarah let out a small laugh. “And you said I was the one with anger problems. Do you really not see the hypocrisy, Lloyd?”

“I said shut up!” He banged his fist on the table, moving to stand up. Sarah didn't flinch. He didn't understand. She shouldn't be here. She had no right to be taunting him, wandering around so freely. He reached for his cane, as if the sword hidden within it would be any help towards an immaterial being, and yet the woman simply rolled her eyes.

“Once again, the hypocrisy, Lloyd. You really think you're so different from me, don't you? You really think we're set on different paths?” She laughed, grinning at him, as if telling him some amazing news. “Oh, Lloyd. And to think I once looked up to you. What a misguided child I was.”

“What are you doing here?” Lloyd said, as threateningly as he could while fumbling with numb fingers, wood scraping against the handle of his cane. He tried not to think about the possibility of him having lost it altogether - Elysium knew he had had enough nightmares about the woman, back when he could sleep. The idea that Sarah truly wasn't there? That he couldn't even trust his own mind?

“I come bearing a message; one that I didn't heed, long ago.” She said, drawing closer. If Lloyd’s face had nerves, he would’ve been able to feel her icy breath on his cheeks, as she whispered into the static-laced radio. “Beware the chimes of the clock tonight, dear Lloyd. It seems the metaverse wants to teach you a lesson.”

“The metaverse has done nothing for me.” Lloyd shook his head, spending all of his willpower to not draw back, to not show Sarah the weakness that had allowed her to manipulate all of them in the first place.

“I didn't say it would be a pleasant lesson, Lloyd. Simply something you need to know.”

The smile on her face seemed a thousand times more intimidating than it had ever been before, painted on her pale lips like a grin on a porcelain doll.

“Three ghosts shall visit you tonight.” Sarah said with a flourish, drawing back, amusement evident on her face. “Just be glad you can not dream, or they would be haunting your nightmares.”

“Three- What? And what if I refuse?”

“Then I suppose you'll end up just like me, in the end.”

Lloyd knew he couldn't blink, and yet, it still felt like when he next opened his eyes, Sarah was gone. It was impossible. She shouldn't have been there-

Maybe it was just all this time alone, finally sending him over the edge. He wouldn't be like Sarah. He wouldn't. He wouldn't.

…Would he?

It wasn't the same, when he was causing destruction for a cause, right? When everything he was doing was with the sole goal of getting back to Ravey, of making everything better. It would all be better, he was sure of it. It wasn't his fault if he could just get back to-

He couldn't sleep to while the hours away. He almost missed it, but if what Sarah was saying had been true, or if whatever visions he may be having were manifested as nightmares… no, no. At least he could read, when his poor doll vision was better than usual. Or sit and spend time with the bird, gently stroking its back, imagining what the feathers felt like so vividly he could almost feel it, even if he was starting to forget what the sensation of softness was like.

Almost having forgotten the ghostly appearance, time always seeming to blend into one in the tunnels beneath, he was jolted out of his thoughts by David the bird puffing its feathers, staring at a spot that was seemingly insignificant. It tweeted in fear as it shifted nervously from foot to foot, and Lloyd couldn't help but feel a small ringing in his radio ears, as the air around that spot seemed to shimmer, curling and twisting into the fabric of a sweater, and braids of hair, until another woman stood before him in the room.

He stared, and the woman stared right back at him, until a familiar smile spread on her lips.

“Mr Allen, I assume?”

“Marjolein?”

The woman's expression softened, her eyes turning sad as she shook her head. “Ah. No. Simply a projection of the past, I'm afraid.” She sighed, and the look of sympathy coming from the eyes of someone he once thought of as his daughter stung like poison, even if it wasn't her. “I'm a spirit.” She said, raising her hand, beckoning Lloyd to take it. “Come with me?”

Without thinking, almost involuntarily, Lloyd reached to grasp her hand, moving too quickly and too silently for the doll's clunking gears. A hand, with fingers, yet not made of human flesh, wrapped around the spirits, and Lloyd barely had time to exclaim in shock at the free movement, barely had time to glance back at the now empty doll body, with David the bird’s desperate clucking and pecking at it, before being pulled away into nothing.

When reality next manifested around him, Lloyd instantly recoiled. He recognised this place, with its hallways that seemed too big and empty for a child, and a fireplace that emanated no warmth. He recognised the child, too, and wished its snivelling tears brought any more feeling to him than embarrassment.

He cast his gaze to the thing that looked like Marjolein. The spirit was standing beside him, watching the kid with an expression Lloyd could not name - but whether that was because the spirits were beyond his understanding, or from decades of ignoring the emotions of others, he couldn't tell. But she shouldn't be seeing this. This wasn't who he was anymore, not by a long shot.

“Lloyd.” The harsh voice made both of them flinch, as if they had been caught doing something they weren't supposed to - and in a way, the child had. Tears were something foolish, even for a boy his age.

“You didn't answer my question.” The child still had a youthfully foolish tone of defiance, as if it would somehow change his father’s mind.

“I don't think I have to.” The man replied, his voice stone cold to the boy's plea for sympathy. He crossed his arms, but the child's gaze didn't waver. Lloyd’s did.

“When’s mommy coming back home?” The child insisted, again and again, as the days started to pass. As months went by, the child learned to shut his mouth, and as years finally started to pass, the house growing no warmer, and less like a home each day, a young teen knocked on the door to his father's study, trying to hide the bounce in his stance, as he gently rocked on his heels. The man hummed in acknowledgement, and Lloyd couldn't find it in himself to tear his eyes away, even if the young naivety of his past self made him cringe.

“Goodbye, father!” The teen said, wearing a uniform that was too big for him, but that he'd grow into in time.

The man hummed again.

“I'm leaving now.” He said again, slowly.

The man hummed again.

“I won't see you until the winter-”

“Close the door on your way out, Lloyd.” the man said, and the teen complied, shame shining on his cheeks.

Lloyd watched his younger self walk away, his head hung low. The child… should've seen how pointless it was. Been more self aware. It was all his fault that the disappointment had hit him so hard. It had taught him a lesson, he wouldn't do it again-

“But that wasn't the day you gave up, was it?” The spirit said, as if reading his mind.

“You shouldn't have to see this.” Lloyd said, gazing into the eyes of his daughter. He wasn't supposed to show weakness like this. Elysium knew his father hadn't, when his mother left. “Please, Marjolein, you've been through enough, you don't need to see-”

“Haven't you been through enough, too?” The spirit asked, innocently, before gesturing towards the next scene. The teen tentatively coming home for the holidays, still with the ghost of a smile on his face - lingering joyful mood from interacting with peers his own age, peers who saw him as a person.

“Hello father.”

The man hummed once more, and all the young man's confidence broke in a moment.

The spirit tugged at his sleeve, pulling him away.

“You never considered this place home, after this, did you?” The spirit said, sympathetically. “Oh, poor child.” It started to tug him away. “But it's alright, isn't it? It made you determined. Showed you how affection was earned, right? It's alright if you don't let yourself mourn an unloved childhood, right?’

“It's… families aren't supposed to…” He trailed off, the spirits arm around him pulling him into a spin.

“You say families aren't supposed to,” She said. “But what about when they do?”

Before Lloyd could ask what she meant, the world stopped spinning, and a chatter of voices filled the air. All-too-familiar laughter echoed like a welcome ray of sunshine, letting Lloyd crack the first smile he had in decades, just at the memory.

“When they do… what?” Lloyd asked, gazing at the others, at the dinner party before it all went wrong. At Raven's desperate attempts to teach Marjolein to dance, at Isabella teasing Michael over a story he had never heard.

“Love eachother.” The spirit said, gazing at her counterpart.

The dinner-party-Marjolein laughed, pulling away from Raven on the dance floor with mock annoyance, and falling right into Lloyd's fussing, the man asking if she was alright, if she needed a glass of water, had too much to drink-

“She felt like a daughter, right?” The spirit said, resting its head on Lloyd's shoulder, as if they were the pair ahead of them. “So why didn't you feel like a son to your father?”

“No, no.” Lloyd said, pulling away from the spirit’s touch. “That's not- I chose to care for her, to take that risk-”

“What risk was there?”

“She… She turned out well. Others didn't.”

The spirit followed his gaze to Sarah, joining in the conversation with the pair. At just the sight of her, Lloyd felt his heartbeat start to spike, all the physical symptoms he had managed to avoid as a doll starting to creep up on him once more. “She… It was my fault. If I hadn't trusted a stranger-”

“That's not the part of it that was your fault, Lloyd.” The spirit shook her head, sighing. Lloyd turned away. Marjolein's expression of disappointment was something he never wanted to see, especially when the source was him.

“Then what part of it was?”

“If you never trusted strangers, you wouldn't have met Marjolein, or Isabella. Or the rest of the playhouse, Raven, Matt-” The spirit started to list off, avoiding the question.

“Okay, okay, but - even you have to admit that some strangers are better than others.”

“They're all human, Lloyd, both for good and for bad. You’ll understand soon enough, I'm sure.”

Lloyd sighed. “If this is about the damn radio hour-”

“Soon enough, Lloyd. Would you like to see what happened to the people who loved you? What you've done?”

Lloyd shook his head, but the spirit’s arm was around him again, hushing him. When the man next opened his eyes, he wasn't on a gruesome battlefield, watching the family he had made fall one after another, like he had expected. Instead, he was somewhere… cozy. A trailer-

Oh no. Oh, no, no. Hadn't he re-lived this moment enough in his thoughts? The look of lonely desperation in Raven's eyes as he realised there was no way of convincing Lloyd to stay? He could practically recite by heart the words that followed, the fight, the shouts, the unwelcome teasing. And even after all that, Raven still wanted him to stay.

“Sometimes love just… isn't enough.” Lloyd looked away, trying to justify himself to the spirit.

“It can be, if you choose to embrace it, to feel-”

“But I didn't choose that!” He shouted. “I didn't. I went to level five to protect them and gave up-”

“Your love for them?”

There was silence for a long moment.

“Of course I- Of course I love them. I just… affection has always been tricky.” He practically spat, looking almost like a child having a tantrum as he crossed his arms.

“I have no doubt that you love them, Lloyd.” The spirit said, unwavered by Lloyd's distress. “But to an outsider - or to the person you're chiding and mocking into not following you - it most certainly doesn't look like love. It certainly doesn't look like you're even trying to make it right.”

Lloyd watched as Raven wrapped his other self in his arms, as if letting go would be to lose Lloyd forever. In a way, he hasn't been wrong. Even as his past self left, Raven sat, staring at the door. Time was tricky to tell, but something told Lloyd that hours were starting to pass. Days, as empty bottles started to creep into the disordered room.

Still, even as mess started to seep into every nook and cranny of Raven's side, Lloyd's side of the bed was kept perfectly clear, the half read book on his nightstand remaining undisturbed.

Until finally, years later, in a drunken rage, Raven had thrown it against the wall, where its pages crumpled and ripped.

“Why are you showing me the things I can't change, spirit?” Lloyd asked, his hands itching to wrap around Raven, after all those years, but his sense, for he'd only slip right through his fingers, getting the better of him. “Are you trying to distress me? Hurt me? Why take the face of a dead daughter?”

“Because once, you used to value the warmth of comfort and care, as much as you loathe to admit it. And once, you were a happy man.”

With those words, said with an innocent smile, the spirit crumbled into dust, leaving Lloyd alone in the room beneath New Albion as an unfeeling doll, to ruminate in his thoughts

Chapter Text

He was broken from his thoughts by a chime, a deafening trill that was so loud it sounded distorted to the low-quality microphones on the doll.

Of course, the clock in the room didn't have a bell to chime from. It didn't even have a tick, the sound being too maddening to Lloyd in the long hours of the early mornings, his only company being the room and the bird - and even they both had to sleep.

It wasn't the strangest thing that had happened that night, but the sound was still uncanny. He stood up, glancing at the bird. It hadn't stirred.

And it was only then he realised that his doll body still sat on the floor.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he reached for the clock, trying to find a way to silence it. Damn spirits. Why did there have to be three? Wasn't being pitied and lectured by a reflection of his daughter enough?

Slamming the clock against the wall when his attempts to shut it up failed, he resisted the urge to scream. Couldn't a man just rest when he was supposed to be dead? Couldn't he get back to planning a way back to the carnival? If he could just get back, maybe he wouldn't have to rely on a useless, still sleeping bird to bring him peace.

“Why, hello there, Lloyd!” Said a voice from behind him, and Lloyd froze.

He knew it was just the second one of the spirits, but in a moment, his arms were around Raven, gripping him as tightly as he could. The spirit wrapped arms around him in return, gently rubbing his back, and just for a moment, Lloyd let himself pretend it was truly his lover.

“Lloyd-”

“I know you're not Ravey. I know.” Lloyd muttered, burying his head into the spirits shoulder. “But please.”

The spirit squeezed him tightly, then pulled away, cupping his head and grinning with Raven's smile.

“What do you say we get out of here, Lloyd?”

Lloyd's face dropped. It was one thing to have Marjolein's face remind him of what he couldn't change, but Raven's?

“Are you going to torment me with the past again?” He asked.

“Oh, no, I'm not the spirit of the past, I assure you. I’m far too flighty for that.” The spirit reached for Lloyd's hand. His fingers warm, yet not filling Lloyd with the same content comfort the real Raven would.

“Then what are you a spirit of?” Lloyd asked, following the spirit’s lead and taking a step.

“The present, of course. What happens in the now.”

Lloyd's foot didn't hit the ground as he stepped, and instinctually, he grabbed for Raven. He clung to the purple fabric as they spiralled away, down and down a reality well.

“Spirit?” Lloyd asked, panic starting to creep into his voice once more. “Raven? We shouldn't- this is dangerous- A reality well-”

“Relax. I'll protect you.”

Lloyd took a breath, trying to believe it. The first spirit had posed him no harm, why would this one? The present was… tricky, but not as painful as the past. He could do this.

They didn't hit the ground with a crash. They barely hit the ground at all, in fact, their nonexistent footsteps as light as a feather.

The landscape was alien, and despite the peace, made the hairs on the back of Lloyd's neck stand on end. The trees were gnarled, a ghoulish shade of red that barely held leaves, and a faint cry in the distance drew Lloyd’s attention to a devilish creature, flying up in the air, looking for prey.

“Why take me somewhere so dangerous? There's nothing but ashes in the depths of hell.”

Raven shook his head, holding his finger to Lloyd's lips to hush him, and smiled. “Oh, but sometimes there's happiness in the warmth - a campfire, instead of a blazing inferno. Follow me.”

Lloyd had no choice but to follow. There was - quite literally - no way in hell he would risk being left alone at the bottom of a reality well.

It was… oddly peaceful. The cries of the demons almost sounded like weird bird screeches, and even the dull, red light had a certain charm to it. It wasn't as awful as he had first expected.

“Just a little to the left!” He heard a voice cry out, and his attention snapped to two women, one of them on the other's shoulders, trying to reach for something.

Marjolein gave a laugh, stepping slightly to the left, letting Jill’s hand wrap around the fruits she was reaching for.

“Just be quick! I'm gonna fall soon, you're not the lightest person in the world!”

“I've got it, I've got it. It's fine.”

Lloyd turned to the spirit, to Raven, watching the people who used to be family.

“They're dead.” He said, gesturing to them. “They're supposed to be dead.” His voice rose. “Why aren't they dead?”

“Because, Lloyd, they stuck together to survive a hellscape.”

“But that's- that's-” He stuttered, gesturing towards them, as Jill manoeuvred herself down from Marjolein’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to the woman's cheek. Marjolein smiled.

“They're together. They're happy. Isn't that a good thing?” The spirit asked, a look of gentle pride filling his eyes, the same look that they both used to have when Marjolein had succeeded at something, postie ability or otherwise.

“I… Suppose.” Lloyd said.

The spirit gave him a sad smile, and Lloyd got the feeling that he was going to be getting many of them from this Raven's lips.

“But, Lloyd.” The spirit said, a teasing tone despite his expression. “They've surpassed you in every way, have they not?”

He gazed at the pair, Jill shouting to stop Marjolein unknowingly walking near a thorny bush, before having to turn away.

“Take me to the next scene, spirit. Please. Tell me that more of my family is happy.”

The spirit raised an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not. I'm happy for them.” Lloyd said, far too quickly. “Let's just- Just go. What more happy couples must we see?”

“As you wish, my dear.” Spirit-Raven said, a spring of joy returning to his voice. “As you wish.”

He let himself lean into the spirit’s touch as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder, as they were once more whisked away. There was no way they should have been able to rise out of a reality-well so soon, but tonight, it seemed, even the flexible rules of the metaverse were being snapped completely.

The pair next found themselves in a small room, with a sobbing woman. A man sat next to her in the almost barren bed, holding her, as he had done countless times before when she had woken up from nightmares such as the one she had just had.

“Spirit? Raven? Who's this?” Lloyd asked, creeping closer, and trying to get a look at the woman's face. No spark of recognition lit in his eyes.

“Don't tell me you've forgotten your favourite radio star?” The spirit laughed. “You silly man.”

Lloyd felt heat rise to his face at the words coming from Raven's voice - the exact way the man used to tease him - before taking an even closer look at the pair. Radio star…

“Why is Constance O’Brien someone important enough for me to see?” He asked incredulously, crossing his arms. “She can't even narrative jump or narrate or even think to ask the right questions to gain those skills-”

“She's still a postie.” Raven shrugged, sitting cross-legged on the bed next to the pair, unseen by either of them.

“But she's not even family-”

“She's still human.” The spirit said with a grin, watching the pair.

Constance shook in Thomas’s arms, evidently having just woken up. Thin sheets, some of the only possessions provided by the monastery, sat entangled around them, barely providing any warmth. Lloyd recognised the way she leaned into her boyfriend, seeking his caring touch.

“The same one again?” Thomas asked. Constance nodded.

“He came back. He… He…” Constance shook her head, burying it into Thomas’s shoulder as she faltered into tears. Thomas pressed a kiss to her forehead, gently wrapping arms around her, slowly rocking her.

“He's not coming after us. I promise. We're safe here.” He said, like it was a mantra, but it didn't stop Constance's small sobs.

Lloyd felt a sinking feeling in his chest.

“They're… Spirit, please… Ravey…”

“She's just Constance O’Brien.” The spirit stayed cross-legged on the bed, staring intently at the pair. “What does it matter? She's not family.”

“You don't understand!” Lloyd tried. Raven turned to face him, the smile still on his face. “It was to get back to him! You!”

“Ah, yes. Everything you've done lately has been to get back to him, right?” The spirit sweetly said.

“Yes! It'll all be better-”

“For who?”

Lloyd was silent. For… both of them, of course. Especially for him. Especially for this emptiness he felt.

“Can I see him, spirit?” Lloyd hesitantly asked. “Surely, if you can take me miles away to the western mountains, and to the bottom of a reality well, can't you take me to the Collective Unconscious?”

The spirit simply offered his hand. Lloyd cast a final look to the crying woman - a look that some might say was regretful, if Lloyd had practice in showing that emotion - before they found themselves being whirled away once more.

The carnival was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the bustling, chaotically overstimulating way it usually shone. Lloyd's eyes widened as he tried to take it in, and eventually his gaze fell to the spirit by his side, looking far too bright for his surroundings.

“What happened?” Lloyd asked. The spirit shrugged, smiling.

“It's better this way, don't you think?”

“What?”

The spirit’s smile didn't falter. “You're not a chaos and insanity person, are you?”

“That's not fair.” Lloyd said, as his head snapped towards a commotion, a few tents away. Voices he recognised permeated through the ominous twilight, just feet away. The spirit saw him gazing.

“Go, go. Tour our grounds, if you wish.”

Lloyd wished he could enjoy the laugh that came from spirit Raven's lips, but instead, it filled him with a creeping dread. He didn't retort before he ran, pulling aside the canvas doorway of the tent, and stopping in his tracks as he saw what was inside.

“Ravey?”

The man was barely visible through the multiple identical women, trying to help him onto the bed while he hiccuped and whined. Another Floozy pried a bottle out of his hand, Raven's grip turning weak in his drunkenness.

“‘m fine, promise.” He slurred, his eyes half closed, smudged make-up covering them. “‘s all good. All good. You don't have to… don't have to…”

Lloyd glanced back at the spirit. His amused grin had not yet waned. He looked back to his lover. To his incoherent sobs, that Lloyd didn't think he could handle hearing the meaning behind. He didn't think he could bear hearing the accusations and laments aimed towards him, for ripping half of the man's soul away in the way he had.

Right behind him, the spirit started laughing, its cackles piercing Lloyd’s skull in shooting pains, making him almost stumble on his feet.

“What could you possibly find so damn funny?” He finally snapped, spinning to face the spirit. Its expression matched Raven's, makeup running and eyes puffy, yet still that laugh came from its mouth, sounding more and more like deranged screams the longer Lloyd listened.

The spirit stumbled back, out of the tent. The weight of Lloyd's new perception of Raven pulling it away.

And still, it laughed.

Lloyd reached forward, trying to steady it. He still needed the thing to get home - even if the real Raven was suffering, if there was nothing he could do except wallow in regret, maybe he could save the thing that showed him his family was still alive.

The spirit collapsed to the ground as it giggled, and Lloyd knelt next to it. It convulsed and screamed and begged, and yet, Lloyd's present obsession with getting to his lover didn't let it take a new shape.

The being shattered into a thousand pieces as Lloyd tried to pull it back up, and in the tent behind him, the real Raven finally fell asleep.

He didn't know how long he knelt there. Long enough for the carnival to grow alive again, perhaps, glowing in fluorescent lights and reflecting the emotions of the ringmaster. Long enough for an old, rusty doll to come wandering in, a woman at his side.

A woman who was currently sitting cross-legged in front of him, the bright blue streaks in her hair vibrant against her dark clothes.

“I don't recognise you.” Lloyd spoke first, his voice thick with tears.The last two spirits had been people he'd known before. His daughter and his lover, come to teach him a lesson. But this one?

“I'm the spirit of the future.” The woman said. “I believe I'm taking the form of someone you will call Han Mi?”

Lloyd looked up. The curve of her lips was unmistakable, the way she held herself as she talked. He wanted to weep.

“Why do you mock me, spirit?” He asked. “She's dead. She'd have no descendants.” He shook his head.

“I am… unsure. The future is unsteady. It can be changed with the beat of a butterfly’s wings.” The spirit said, starting to stand. She offered him a hand, which Lloyd eyed suspiciously.

“Then why appear to me? If you can't give me proof of how much I've destroyed, like the rest of you seem to torment me with?”

“Because I’ve come to show you what will happen if you do not heed our warning, Lloyd.” She said, gesturing to a group, standing in the carnival grounds.

Raven stood. With the woman - Han. And… And…

Lloyd too. An argument. Disagreement. Han shouting. Raven trying to break them up.

“What?”

“Not everyone appreciates being used as mere pawns, Lloyd.” The spirit crossed her arms. “Not when it means losing so much. Not your friends.”

At the words, the scene flashed. Michael and Asha. Planning Jill's rescue with the rest of them. Asha looking at him in disappointment.

“Not your daughter.”

The pair were dragged away once more. Back to the hellscape, that time. Jill’s look of relief, quickly turning to concern, and then to fear. Marjolein slowly backing away from the emotionless man she had once considered something akin to a father, realising that the happiness in his eyes was from getting another pawn, not trying to hold a family reunion.

“And most certainly not your lover.”

The scene twisted once more, the two of them arguing, just as mercilessly as before, only neither of them left. Raven accusing Lloyd of seeing them all as chess pawns, pieces in a grander puzzle.

Lloyd objecting, saying that obviously not all of them were pawns. Some were rooks, or knights, or bishops.

Raven not talking to him after that.

“That's not the future.” Lloyd objected. “It's not- It simply can't- I've spent so long trying to-”

“Time is as malleable as anything, Lloyd. This is simply a possibility - although a likely one at that.” The spirit gripped his shoulders, and eyes, so similar to Raven's, bore into him.

“You don't want to be like Sarah. We all know you don't.” Han said. “But for the love of Elysium, a man who sees the world as a chess set, falling further and further into despair? What other choice would you have?”

“I wouldn't!” Lloyd protested, but his resolve was breaking. “I wouldn't, I wouldn't-”

“Heed the warning, Lloyd. Or this future will be paradise compared to what you will end up doing.”

And suddenly he was back in the room beneath New Albion, the creaking of the doll’s body filling his limited radio senses as he thrashed and cried, weeping unshed tears.

David the bird pecked at him, and he reached towards it. It jumped into its cupped hand, it's tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.

The lesson? What lesson? What could he heed? What could he possibly do to keep himself from falling into the deeper, colder hole of isolation?

Then it hit him.

Even the bird in his palm was alive, caring about something. The bird didn't deserve to have its worth reduced to a plan, did it? And if the bird didn't…

His gears clanged, in some weird doll equivalent to a sigh.

“David? Birdie? Do you think the room will help me with my next plan? Do you think it might… offer a different perspective?”