[Area] Seth's Dream dome

Dylan has finished uploading a couple videos to youtube. The footage was sent to him from an unknown source. Then again, it's usually always the same source.
Voidco.
He's not sure exactly what they're planning, but he knows it is within his heat interest to upload those videos.

Looking them over, the recording quality is somewhat... questionable. But he can tell for sure that it's Seth in those recordings. Was his voice always that high pitched?
Probably a recording anomaly.

He disguises the videos as a let's play series to avoid suspicion.

Jessica looks over at Dylan as he does his work.
"✧ What cha doing? ✧"

"Classified."

"✧ Sure... ✧"

"You'll be able to see it when it's done."
Dylan clicks the publish button.

Ark sits far away from the battle at hand. His scythe clutched in his hands and leaning over his shoulder.

His students are gathering any who can't fight and are tending to them.

Ark watches the battle with his glowing blue eyes sunken in his skull head. They see plenty and all ties that bind each individual world to each other through the red threads. He wonders if the red miles looked similar in a way...

How long has it been since this war started? How long has he sat here and watched the world slowly unmake itself above his head...?

Dylan finishes having that conversation with the others and decides to begin his trek back down into The Stage.
He begins to phase into the ground...

---

Unconnected to anyone, the basement looks like... well like a small backstage area. The room's barely even lit, ropes and hooks and such hang down ominously from the high ceiling.
Dylan looks around, and then spots a door to a particular room. He walks over towards it and enters.

The side room is small and even darker. A single computer monitor casts a dim glow across the walls.
"...great. more computers..." Dylan sighs. He hates computers at this point. especially using them. But, he has a duty to do what he must for the sake of everyone.
He alone knows the secrets of The Stage, so he must be the one to operate its vile mechanisms.

Dylan sits down in the worn office chair and wiggles the aged ball mouse on the desk. The screen flickers from its dark screensaver lull to a text-based console.
Just what he detests the most: typing.
Dylan cracks his knuckles and gets to work. He pulls out his laptop and pulls up the pdf with the picture of Raz's birth certificate on it (courtesy of *azure and his viewport wizardry).
With the document in view, he types in Raz's full name into the console.

> Connecting to Robert [REDACTED]'s mind... Please wait...

Inside of the dome, all is quiet.
Cracks in its outer shell give way to shafts of filtered light from the ceiling.

The battlefield itself: a vast patchwork prairie surrounding a ruined crater the size of a large building.
A fallen mech remains amongst the rubble, something substantial surrounded by the ephemeral.
The front door of an ancient temple stands without the rest of it.
A lone elevator waits in a far corner.

A cab appears in the sky, flying down with rather large bat wings. it circles around, until finally finding a place to land.

Soon enough, the cab comes to a stop. The passengers exit the cab, mentioning that they will be back later. The cab driver complains, hoping for a good tip.

They seem disappointed to see this place so... empty.

Where did the participants of that fabled battle go?

A seagull can be seen soaring above, making noises like they often do.

Bwen looks up at the metallic man that had apparently ended his life. It doesn't make any sense to him. They were always such good friends, right?
He holds the translator tool in his hands, hoping to get answers.

Daisy scoffs at her assailant. He betrayed them all at the last possible moment, and for that, she doesn't want to show him any mercy whatsoever. Maybe she might be able to get some punches in, who knows?

Clispaeth, their appointed leader, is just, disappointed. They should have been on their way to victory, but their greatest ally became their undoing, and on the endgame platform of all places! She's not sure if she'll ever feel better about this, or ever get to know what was beyond that door.

Flyson cowers behind the others. He just doesn't want to be anywhere near that violent killing machine, especially considering the one in question is actually a literal killing machine now.

Vesri feels like he's failed his team, not only unable to protect them, but his spiteful tactics backfired tragically. He stays back from most of his team in shame.

Amelia however, stands front and center. As a walkmaiden, it's her duty to handle relations between her people and the Walkjangler, which includes the Dark Walkjangler.
She begins to speak.
"...Ｔｈｏｒｅｎ. Ｔｅｌｌ ｍｅ. Ｗｈｙ ｄｉｄ ｙｏｕ ｄｏ ｉｔ? Ｗｈｙ ｄｉｄ ｙｏｕ ｋｉｌｌ ｕｓ ａｌｌ?"

Bwen sets up his translator tool to autotranslate mode, effectively removing the language barrier.

Clispaeth speaks.
"Thoren, the universe we made together was beyond that door! why wouldn't we want you to join us?"

Daisy butts in.
"HOLD UP, WHAT'S THIS ABOUT THE DOOR BECOMING A DEATHTRAP? AND WHY ARE YOU LAYING THE BLAME ON THE VEGETARIAN?"

Vesri retreats further behind, out of view from Thoren. Daisy notices him though and pulls him back by the ear.
"WHERE DO YA THINK YOU'RE GOING, BUCKO?"

Caught pink-handed.
Vesri squirms to try and abscond once more, but it's no use. He begins sobbing uncontrollibly.

Bwen steps forwards.
"I'm still confused. I can kinda maybe see why you went nuts-"

"Bwen, his outburst was uncalled for, deathtrap door or not." Amelia reminds him.

"Ugh, I know! But let me ask my question! Why did you kill me way earlier? We were best friends! You told me about the aliens! I taught you how to code! We watched movies together!"