Mio
The sight of him brought a burn to her forehead, right where the mark had seared itself in. Unlike Shizuka's cold pressure, this was strangely comforting.
"Gaian's mark," Ezra said. "My Vestige says they're old friends."
"That makes us friends?"
"It's on the table."
Mio asked the next logical question then.
"Where are we?"
"My domain. The underworld."
The gray pressed in from all sides.
Oh. Am I in hell? Where's the fire?
The boy, Ezra, took a step forward. "You have many questions, I'm sure of it." The mist around his legs dispersed and coiled around him with every stride.
"But before I can continue, I need to know something."
He brought out a staff from his System inventory. Old looking thing, splintered and half his height. He hit the ground once.
Mio blinked too early. They were standing in a room now: her apartment, her room. It smelled like dust and old laundry. The desk, the monitors, trash on the floor. Everything was the way it had been, before the mark.
