Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The days in this game pass with no end.

‘This is what it was always like, waiting for the next update.’ Silence muses, watching the same, always the same, people wander around her. Never changing, simply following sets of code in both night and day. Her loomian, Viista, this time, swayed behind her in that perpetual, fixed idle stance. Left to right, as always, like a metronome. Metronome, Marinette, Metronette, how creative.

“Oh? I didn't know you were into stalking people.” Viista questioned in a teasing, almost insulting manner. For a second, Silence wondered why she even wanted the outer dimensional creature in the first place, other than the fact that it was her first event, her first event limited loomian, and that Viista looked quite cute.

But she would never want it any other way, the mischievous being had grown on her, carved a place within her hollow, hidden heart despite the steel walls shielding her from any potential dangers.

Silence sighs with a shake of her head, letting out a small tsk.

“Well then, what's on your mind? We've been standing here for quite a while now!” Viista darts to the front of her trainer, twin ends of her dark cloak flowing behind her.

“If you keep me waiting and bored, I'll rip open your bag and snatch some candy for me to snack on!” Viista continued, and Silence simply turned away.

“I'll stop you before you do that.” The girl replies in a monotone voice, the words hard and lacking any emotion. Why would there be emotion, when her voice is that of a machine?

She pauses, staring into the same cement ground, listening to the cheery tunes of the arcade mix with the background music, the chattering of civilians continuing with their routine, everything of the game before continuing once again.

“I've just been thinking about the next update.”

“About what to do while waiting for the update? Or the update itself?” The creature pried. Nosy little thing.

“Both.”

“Pfft, you think too much!” Viista says dismissively, waving one of her tiny, coned-shaped arms. It was a strange sight, mostly because the otherworldly creature had no hands to wave with the motion.

“We’ll be fine with the update! Probably finally battle that huge whale and uncorrupt it, find the next evil tablet, get it, and be on our way! You maxed us up to the level cap, you added so many new additions to the team, and you did fine on the last event and Battle Theater despite all your annoying worrying. And for what to do in the meantime, just hang around, maybe go to that arcade, or~”

Viista leaned in, and Silence already knew what she would say, “Finally battle others in that Colosseum so we can get better gear!”

Silence walked away without a word.

Viista called after her, completely ignoring all the strange looks from the passersby being thrown her way. ( ‘They would forget about it, they always do, once the day resets itself.’ Silence thinks numbly. )

“Don't be a coward, or else I might rethink my decision of allowing you to be my master!”

Silence walked away faster, eyes narrowed, words on the tip of her tongue. ‘So now you're saying I'm your master?’

But she stopped as a new sound fell on her ears.

The clopping of hooves, the rolling of steel wheels on cement. She turned to her left, mumbling a sorry that didn't quite get out to the stranger who bumped into her. She walked right past him, her walk swiftly turning into a hurried sprint.

Because she had just seen the strangest sight.

A large ebony black carriage of intricate design, lined by lanterns casting an eerie green glow, drawn by two completely dark horse-like loomians dressed in equally intricate decorations. Still and silent they were, they didn't act nor look natural with the rest of the exotic, animated, and creative appearing cast of loomians. But the most baffling trait was the haziness of the sight, like fog but without the white. Parts that seemed to be disappearing and reappearing, greener or lighter spots that seemed out of line with the rest of the figure. Like a glitching effect, like the carriage was not meant to be there, like it was not a part of the game.

Not before long, Viista was at her side, openly gaping at the sight. Or rather her mouth was simply opened wider than normal. “...Is this some Halloween event you didn't tell me about?”

Silence shook her head. As far as she could recall from her abrupt visions of the outside, there were no events upcoming. The Fourth Anniversary had passed a while ago, and only the new update of the story, with the possible addition of Soul Burst, was said to be added soon.

A black carriage, and dressed horses surrounded by a glitch effect were not meant to come.

“Well…” Viista stayed quiet, swaying side to side. “We won't know if we don't find out, right?”

Silence snapped her head to the creature, hesitant, but ultimately agreeing with a simple, slow nod of her head.

Simply continue forward, like they always did.

They cautiously, wordlessly, neared the glitching, still carriage and its horses, Viista in the front to take on any ambushes. Said creature took a second to wave a tiny arm right in front of a horse’s face, but the mysterious being did not react, didn't even blink.

Viista drew back, unnerved with a hint of disappointment. “It's like they're frozen in time or something…”

Silence didn't reply, only eyed the creatures with rising anxiety and wary thoughts. Viista moved further away to take a peek inside the carriage and—

And she disappeared, quite literally vanished into thin air. The green glow of the lanterns, no, the glow that shouldn't have reached that part of the carriage, swallowed up her friend and took her away.

Panic filled Silence’s entire being, drowning out her usual logic and reason, as she rushed forward blindly to her missing friend’s spot with no other thought than, ‘Where in Roria did she go how did she disappear she gone she's gone she's gone gonegonegone—'

The Loomian trainer didn't take in the sleek black coffin lying in the center of the carriage, the pristine mirror that reflected her terror-filled face, the silvery surface that seemed to warp and move-

Because only darkness, as black and deep as the ocean, could be seen the moment she touched the ebony, eerie wood of the black carriage.

Chapter Text

"Ah, my dear beloved,"

The deep, rich voice echoed throughout the dark room, and it was the only thing Silence could hear.

But it wasn't the only thing that caught her attention, threw her away from the panic of her lost friend.

The mirror in front of her, reflected unsightly emerald green flames, blazing and bright, though Silence couldn't put her arms up to shield her from the light.

She couldn't move at all, her body numb and disconnected, it didn't respond. She could only stand there, silent, watching, waiting, thinking.

'A cutscene? What for? Was that carriage really a part of the game? Is this actually an event I wasn't aware of? But I always-'

"The most noble and beautiful flower of evil,"

The voice continued, and her body moved on its own, heedless to Silence's train of thought.

Every resounding step shook her vision, as she got closer. . .

"Truly, you are the most beautiful and fairest of all."

And closer. . .

"Mirror, mirror on the wall. . ."

Closer to the mirror, to that fire of vivid green. . .

"Who is the. . ."

Images, frozen yet clear, appeared before her eyes. A black carriage cloaked by the brightest of night, on a path surrounded by towering, bare trees. The horses, identical to the one she saw on the street, approached a gate of steel and complex design, leading to a massive shadowed and intricate castle, larger than any building she had seen in her life.

"Those who are guided by the dark mirror. . ."

The images disappeared.

"As long as your heart desires,"

What did she desire?

"Take the hand that appears in the mirror."

Gray and washed out, thin and frail yet still there, was a hand.

Floating, animated, within the mirror.

What did she want?

There were too many things she wanted, all of them vast and impossible, like clumsy tatters of a dream she could not catch with her hands. A dream that would always be unreachable.

So far out of reach that she wasn't even sure what exactly those desired things were. Dizzying, distant, like a disorienting fog spreading around her. Visible, ever-present, right there in front of her, yet untouchable all the same.

She never thought about what she wanted, because she had already accepted that those desires of hers are unreachable and untouchable, nothing more than desires to never be obtained.

Her role as the silent, unspeaking protagonist of a game, a game of creatures and evil and battling, traveling through forests and cities, never settling down in one place. That was what took those desires and turned them into fog, dreams. That was what she had already accepted, become used to, and she was fine with it because one desire she had was fulfilled.

Companionship. Friendship. Her friends, her loomians.

She had to find them, find Viista, and she could only do it if she gets out of here.

She took the hand, her wrist sinking into the liquid-like glass of the pristine mirror.

"For me. For them. For you."

'Yes, for them. For my friends, my loomians.'

"We are all running out of time."

Time, a solid and stable thing, that never seemed to change in that game, only reset and cycle on.

"No matter what..."

She stood resolute, undaunted and unwavering in front of Duskit, Protogen, Ikazune, Samarine, Dr. Vanta, all the Battle Theater leaders, and now this.

"Never let go of my hand."

'I will never let you go, my friends.'

Chapter Text

Silence was met with darkness once again, but it was paired with feeling. Control. Awareness. The press of something firm but soft against her back. The feeling of velvety cloth and weight foreign from her usual clothes. The flow of stale, dry air inside her lungs with every shallow breath she took. The fluid response and movement of her slender fingers when she lifted them.

Her fingers met a wall, a cushioned wall for some reason, and Silence registered her odd situation. Then registered the previous incident she had in that dream, the mirror of forest green flames and that deep voice, Viista vanishing right before her very eyes—

Her hands shot to her belt upon instinct, before remembering that her belt wasn't there because she was dressed in different clothes, so she took a second to think and realized that there was a weight on her right. Her fingers scrambled over the fabric, silk against skin, and then relief washed over her as she was met with the feeling of smooth metal.

One disc, in particular, shook violently, and she knew this was Viista telling Silence that she was fine, and all the other discs shook too, in varying degrees of energy, and this was her friends telling her that they were all there, okay, and they would leave this puzzling, strange situation okay.

She would never let go of them.

But the moment of comfort was broken by a sound anyway.

“Grrr…” That growl was far too realistic, far too guttural to be made by a person. But before Silence could even think of what Loomian it could be, there was a voice.

“This lid weighs a ton!” A high-pitched, whiny, and frustrated voice that somewhat matched the tone of the growl. “Fine then! Try this for size! Mya-ha!”

The sound of crackling filled the air, and it was only because two of her Loomians were fire types that Silence came to recognize it as the sound of sparking flame. With flame came rising heat, and with heat came the rushing panic of being roasted alive in an enclosed space.

‘Tsunami? No, I'll probably flood the whole room and get soaked—Ether Misha and Aero are way too big for this box–Uh-Comet! Metal Blast!’ Her hand grasped a disc, fingers brushing over the clean edges and carving of the name that told Silence exactly who it was.

But the button on the disc was never pressed, because the lid had already been blasted off with a deafening roar.

It was only instinct from her past life-threatening situations that allowed Silence to reflexively leap out, ducking underneath the next wave of bizarrely blue flames coming her way. She blinked, shutting her eyes against the sudden explosion of brightness, focusing on her sense of sound instead.

“What?! You ain't supposed to be awake!” The same voice continued, with the sudden eruption of background music ringing in Silence’s ears. It was upbeat, with a melody of mischievousness and fun, yet had a different theme and instruments than Loomian Legacy.

Silence would know. She's listened to the music through all the lengthy waits of updates and events.

She decided not to respond to the voice, nor react to the drastic change in background music, noting her surroundings instead as her vision adjusted to the change of environment. And what an environment it was.

Elegant pillars of stone decorated with strings of small pearls at the top, shadows overcasting the wall-tall windows of the room. Greenlight illuminated the center from an overhanging intricate chandelier, situated right above a black mirror hovering above a dais. However, the most eye-catching, noticeable trait was the black caskets, floating above the floor, emerald stones on the center lined with silver.

Silence took a moment to simply stare at one, before looking back at the direction she came, and sure enough, there was an open, burnt, physics-defying coffin before her, with azure flames eating away at the edges.

‘Where in Roria am I?’

“Ah, it doesn't matter! Just gimme your uniform, human!” Silence snapped her head towards the speaker, ready to send out a question, but then the words died in her throat. Because what is that black, talking Kittone-Fevine thing standing on two legs, with blue fire coming out of its ears, and a three-pronged tail swaying behind it?

‘A loomian? A talking, new loomian? Am I in another dimension again? And why does this rude loomian want my clothes?’

Silence, once again opened her mouth to reply, but then simply couldn't. Her eyes widened, hands rushing towards her neck because she had her choker on right? The choker that gave her the ability to speak?

“Eh? Are you ignoring me, human?! Don't ignore me!”

Silence simply raised a finger at the fire-type Fevine, as her left hand felt over the choker clasped around her neck. It was a different choker with the same hardness and tightness but etched with intricate carvings, adorned with jewels and lace, and didn't give her the ability to communicate through words.

Without the ability to speak, Silence turned her panicky gaze around, searching for something to communicate with. Perhaps there was a desk around filled with paper and pen? No– why would there be a desk in a room full of coffins–

Something else caught her eye.

In the coffin she emerged from, with flames still going strong, there was a brown bag innocently sitting in its corner. Her brown bag, the one that she felt against her leg inside the coffin.

Inside the coffin that was currently on fire.

‘Oh no.’ Was the only thought that crossed her mind before she promptly dove in, and dove out once again with her bag in hand.

“Huh-!? Are you insane- Wait, is that your stuff?! How do you have your stuff with you?!”

Silence ignored the black Kittone, and quickly went to open her bag because she knew she kept a notepad and pen due to the paranoia of her communication choker possibly malfunctioning and stop working. That hasn't happened yet, but what has happened is her choker straight up disappearing on her.

And then reappearing in her bag, on top of her own everyday ordinary clothes that she was previously wearing. Silence takes this in, relief and disbelief washing over her before she rips off the foreign choker around her neck and clasps the rightful one in its place.

She breathes in, out, and carelessly tosses the other choker into her bag without so much as a glance. Silence has better things to do anyway, like addressing the less cute and friendly version of Starla, who was currently staring at her with a mixed look of impatience, irritation, and confusion.

“You done yet human? I'm on a tight schedule here, and what was that about anyway?!” The creature demanded little arms crossed over its furry chest and foot paw persistently tapping the ground.

Silence replied, her tone as dead and flat as ever. “I can't speak without this choker on.”

She ignored the baffled expression on the unknown animal and barreled straight to the point. “And why do you want my clothes?”

“Because I'm gonna become the greatest magician to ever live, and it all starts by going to this school, and I need your clothes to do it! So gimme your clothes, and be quick about it!” The little creature snapped, tail lashing behind him. His face was strangely expressive, full of annoyance.

Silence blinked, filing the new information away for later ( School, I'm in a school ) and then finally tilted her head down to look at foreign garments dressed on her person. A black, soft robe underneath a dark cloak tied at the waist with a purple cloth and gold pendant. The cloak was awfully pretty, with a violet interior and yellow embroidery on the inside and edges, shimmering underneath the light of the room.

“...This wouldn't fit you.”

The creature snapped once again, “It doesn't matter if it fits me or not, I need it! So you better give me it, or else!” The fire-type Kittone grinned, all sharp teeth and malicious, mischievous aura.

Silence could give the creature it, she had her own clothes safely tucked away in her bag. She could go behind one of the coffins, take off the robe, put on her clothes, and be on her merry way to discover where in the name of Ikazune she was. But the robe was awfully pretty, soft, light despite its thick cloth, exactly up her alley with its muted colors and flashy decorations, and the cat creature was exactly the opposite of that. Annoying, rude, disrespectful, with a whiny tone and lack of care when using his fire. He risked destroying her bag, and nearly charred her into ashes just a few minutes prior.

So Silence, the kind to hold petty grudges over first impressions and rude characters, slung her bag over her shoulder, and dashed right past the black Fevine. Slamming the door open, she fled down the shadowed hall, casted in darkness of the night, without so much as a glance back. She didn't need a glance to know that the discolored, rude Rakrawla was chasing her, as it called out, “Hey!! You annoying human, get back here!”

With that sentence came the disastrous crackling of fire behind her. Silence spared a glimpse back, and found only a blazing blue inferno. The creature in the center of it, on all four paws, chasing her like some Corrupted Loomian of doom.

‘With that dark color palette, he may as well be. Just replace the blue with purple, and he's a Duskit damned perfect candidate for corruption. Even paired with a dislikeable personality.’

Silence didn't have time to ponder more, as she heard the music cut off, change. A cheery, catchy replacement began, and a circle appeared underneath her quick steps, sticking out of the dark hall like oil in water. Black, with a center of a violet star, two inner circles and strangely detailed edges of dots and spikes. Then another circle appeared nearby, to her upper right, flawlessly following her pace on the floor. White, lined with the same violet hue, hollow with only a small, different star at its center.

Silence didn't have time to process this, as fiery heat began to rapidly build behind her, and she simply followed her instinct. She rushed towards the direction of the white circle, the purple one in line with her feet, and the two touched with a satisfying, shattering like sound being made in the background.

The black circle stayed, the white one disappeared, and only two invading words suddenly appeared in her head. ‘Note, target point.’

The pop music, the colored circles that were meant to connect, the gratifying noise made when the circles connect. How she flawlessly dodged an onslaught of incoming flames from the creature, the fire spewing past her the instant her feet, along with the dark circle, the note, overlapped with the star of the silvery circle, the target point.

‘This is a rhythm game.’ The realization came crashing down, as she watched, baffled, as another target point simply appeared, bright and shining amidst the shadows, on her left. ‘I'm in a rhythm game, being chased by a fire type, clothes wanting cat thing, on the verge of being burnt alive, and I'm playing a rhythm game.’

Once again, the rising heat behind her spoke of incoming danger, and Silence changed her direction to the white circle. The gratifying click sounded as the creature yelled, frustration lining its words, “Stop moving, human! I can't roast you like this!”

‘I am so done.’

Transported to another game, a Spirivii cursed rhythm game, through a glitchy carriage. Not a warning said, not a chance to say goodbye to her parents or somewhat friends, not even allowed the grace of finishing the plot and spending time without danger or destiny breathing down her back before whisking her away, with only the panic of one of her Loomians disappearing before her eyes and a creepy mirror appearing before her. Then, she was introduced to this new, unwanted game by a fire breathing, tiny and rowdy cat creature that immediately demanded her clothes, or would give her death.

What a lovely first impression. Silence was not taking this well, and she could tell her Loomians weren't taking it either.

Some of them were buzzing insistently in her pocket, the ones that were protective and emotional of course. But she knew regardless of movement or not that all of her Loomians would immediately throw hands if she were to command so.

Silence took one of the shaking discs into her hand, identifying it as Zeus, one of her beloved first and most protective, and leaped to another target point. Clicking the button while tossing the disc into the air, she shouted over the roar of oncoming fire and the ding of the point disappearing, “Driving Force!!”

A familiar flash of white illuminated the area, and from it emerged a soaring bird of dual colors. Dark and light, yellow and orange, the Loomian streaked soundlessly through the cold, overcast night.

The little black Starla creature froze at the sight of the rather large bird, glowing a menacing red, and diving dead straight towards him. “Wha-”

Zeus’s screech of fury accompanied by the sound of a satisfying collision echoed down the hall, the catchy background tune faded away to nothing, and Silence let out a sigh of relief, panting with hands on her knees in exhaustion. If the music was gone, that meant the danger was gone as well.

Perhaps plotline too? Considering this was a different game, maybe the creators of it didn't have music for events that occurred outside of the plotline and characters.

Silence shook her head, storing away that thought for later. The trainer turned around, and was met with the face of a delighted Avitross. Silence stroked the messy crown of burnt brown feathers in gratitude, and Zeus let out a pleased chirp in response.

But they do not have all the time in the world, so Silence moves on, “We’re in a new game, a rhythm game, with aggressive, talking loomian-like creatures.”

She juts a thumb towards the unconscious cat laying several feet away from them. “We’re in a school, according to the cat. Probably magical and medieval.”

‘If those floating coffins, fancy architecture and clothes says anything.’

In truth, the stones and lanterns are an aesthetic Silence is fond of, but the lack of advanced technology, electricity, and plumbing was going to be a true, long-term pain.

“So, there's definitely going to be teachers and students around here.”

Silence didn't need to say more. An NPC guide was the best way to start off the plot, and if the setting is a school, then that was likely where the story will start. She could consider all her other problems and possibilities later.

( Is this the right way? )

Silence left Zeus out for now, paranoid of more agressive, annoying creatures coming out, and for general comfort and support. A Loomian accompanying their trainer daily, at all times, was normal, and Silence was far too used to it that one of her Loomians not being with her made her a bit anxious. Zeus looked ordinary enough anyway, no feathers of fire, glowing green patterns, metallic skin, or leaf covered humanoid body. She could easily pass him off as an exotic, rare species of large bird that had escaped his cage in search of her.

The two wandered aimlessly, peering out windows to gaze around the empty campus, pacing around the lit but silent halls, opening doors only to be met with darkness. Not a single soul.

Yet the school was certainly not abandoned, the lanterns on the walls were lit, the rug underneath her feet was clean, classrooms were neat and tidy. But they were alone.

When Silence was finally considering sending Zeus and her other, more ordinary loomians out to search around, the tense silence was shattered by a horribly familiar screech, accompanied by a mischievous rhythm of music.

“Hah, you can't get rid of the Great Grim so easily, human! I'll turn both you and your stupid bird to ashes, and finally get your clothes!”

Zeus let out an irritated caw in reply, rising higher in the air in preparation to dodge fire, but before the word Nosedive could leave Silence’s tongue, a sharp sound pierced the air.

With it, came an abrupt beat of silence, and a thin cord emerging from the shadows to wrap around the discolored Fevine’s body, yanking him off the ground within the span of a second.

“Ow! What's with this cord?!” The creature, Grim, her mind reminded her, flailed around in a futile attempt to escape, tail swinging behind him wildly.

“This is no mere cord! This is the lash of love!”

With the beginning of a daunting tune, came a tall man stepping out of the darkness, dressed in the most extravagant attire Silence had ever seen. A dim blue coat adorned by black feathers and yellow embellishments, over a suit that would have been formally ordinary if not for the sparkling gray embroidery and the pristine keys hanging on the multiple mirrors clasped to his belt. If that wasn't enough, a top hat decorated with another mirror and feather was over his dark navy hair, and a bird-like mask casted shadows over his eerie golden, glowing eyes.

With such a sharp mask, lustrous eyes and dark color palette, the man would make a fitting match with Duskit.

Those bright yellow eyes turned towards Silence, and an awfully familiar, deep and rich voice said, “Ah, I've found you at last. Splendid. I trust you're one of this year's new students?”

‘That’s the voice from the mirror I heard before waking up— Wait, shoot, he asked me a question—’ Silence wordlessly spluttered, trying to formulate a response, but the man did not even wait for a response.

“My, were you ever eager to make your debut. And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you?”

‘Familiar? Like a witch’s familiar? What on Roria— That Kittone Ragoon isn't mine—’ The man didn't stop, oblivious to Silence's concealed emotions.

“That is a clear violation of the school's rules.”

The cat doubled his efforts in trying to escape. “As if I'd serve some-”

Without batting an eye, the Duskit-like pulled the end of his whip over to Grim’s mouth, and continued with less of a scolding edge, “At the very least your second familiar is calm. I do hope it is well trained?”

Zeus stared right into the man’s eyes, conflicted between being offended on the behalf of his trainer or wanting to make a good first impression. In the end, he simply gave a sharp caw of affirmation, raising his head boldly, maybe passive aggressively.

The man let out a huff of amusement, nodding, at both the trainer and her Loomian, “I shall take that as a yes.”

Then he stilled, silent, creeping closer to Silence, who in turn took a step back. The stranger’s expression was one of confusion, as he peered over her shoulder and eyed the strap of her bag, “Is that bag yours?”

Silence instinctively gripped it, murmuring, “...Yes.”

A beat of stillness, quietness. The man, thankfully, then returned to his original distance, muttering, “Hmm, how peculiar. All luggage of students will be teleported to their assigned dorms, no student has ever come with their belongings…”

‘Oh Pharoglyph. Am I going to get in trouble?’ The wave of panic overcame her again.

“Ah, no matter. No problems shall arise because of this. Although...”

The sharp, chiding edge returned to his voice. “That does not make you opening your own gate any better. Does the very notion of patience elude you?”

This man was speaking complete utter nonsense to Silence. Gate? What was that? But with such a harsh tone, she couldn't help but stay silent and shrink back slightly. Zeus’s head rubbed comfortingly on her shoulder, though the clicking of his beak told her of his already forming distaste to the man.

However, the stranger shook his head. “Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber.”

‘Wonderful. More mirrors, as if I haven't seen enough of them tonight.’ Silence mused bitterly as she followed the Duskit-like stranger, who had begun sauntering away without a glance back, the keys and mirrors on his belt jingling merrily. The familiar flapping of Zeus’s wings sounded behind her, as she thought out her next course of action.

Keep this man talking, he was their only source of information currently, and more information means playing her assumed role of student better.

Silence quickened her pace, enough that she walked beside him.

“What do you mean by gates…?” She whispered, head lowered, desperately hoping that the question wasn't too suspicious, that perhaps he would pass her off as an uninformed, clueless student.

Once again, those piercing yellow eyes turned to her, paired with a questioning tone and a tilt of his head. “You awakened in a room full of gates, did you not?”

Did he mean those gravity defying coffins?

“All of the students here at the campus arrived by passing through such gates.”

Ah, she supposed that made sense. Considering the carriage carrying that coffin in her dream, and that she had seen that carriage before coming here. Then, that ‘gate’ was truly the entrance of her arrival to another game.

“Although, typically students have enough restraint to wait until I open them before waking up.”

Silence didn't raise her head, fingers gripping a loomian disc, Apollo this time. The fatherly Infernix radiated warmth from within, his disc trembling gently in comfort. His trainer’s voice stayed as a whisper, “The lid of mine was blown off by the cat, actually…”

“It is one of your familiars, so curtailing its behavior is your responsibility!”

“Uh, sir, it's not mine—”

“Truly, these students of mine…” The man trailed off, shaking his head and mumbling some unflattering complaints about how he wasn't paid enough to take care of this school.

‘This Ragoon— Not even letting me finish...I don't even know who he is, actually…’ Asking the mysterious man, probably a teacher, about who he was and about the school was probably pushing it, but not knowing even the name of the school she is supposed to be attending was far more suspicious.

Thus, Silence asked, fingers brushing over the surface of her discs, drawing circles around it. And the chatty man, Dire Crowley, the headmage of Night Raven College, explained in response, with a particularly annoying comment of “Am I not the most magnanimous of men?”

‘No, you're just really egotistical and annoying.’

Night Raven College is a prestigious academy for students worldwide who possess a rare talent for magic. The most prestigious in all of the world of Twisted Wonderland, to be exact, according to Crowley.

‘What a name, Twisted Wonderland and Night Raven College...the name Crowley does sound like crow, and Crowley has this whole bird theme going for him, and he's the headmage of Night Raven…’

How funny. Silence gives props to the creators of the game, Twisted Wonderland. ( She didn't know how she knew the name of the game. She simply did, just like for Loomian Legacy. )

In addition, Crowley spoke of a Dark Mirror being the one to choose the qualified, magical students, and chosen students are greeted by a black carriage that can appear anywhere, carrying the gate to it.

Silence huffed upon hearing that. The Dark Mirror must have mistaken something, because she had not an ounce of magic in Loomian Legacy. Though, now that she was in Twisted Wonderland, where magic actually exists, does that mean she has magic now? She felt nothing physically different about her, but…

There were too many questions, and not enough time to subtly interrogate Crowley for answers.

Truly not enough time, because—

“Now, let us attend your orientation.”

The grand doors of the Mirror Chamber swung open, welcoming Silence and her Loomians to the world ( game ) of Twisted Wonderland.

Chapter Text

A black and purple crowd of identically cloaked students greeted Silence, spiking her social anxiety to peak levels as all eyes turned to her.

‘Of course.’ Silence pursed her lips as she brushed her tied black hair ( Since when was it tied with a violet and yellow ribbon? ) onto her shoulder, and hurriedly flipped on her hood, trying to block out the loud whispers that cutted through the grand harmony of violins and flutes.

"There's one left? Where in Twisted Wonderland have they been?"

"Keeping us waiting..."

"Is that a bird...?"

"What a freaky creature, it's so large…!"

"Don't they know that our bags will be teleported right into our dorms?"

Kids these days, chattering out whatever’s on their mind without a single sense of shame.

On the other hand, Zeus turned his head round, gazing confidently at all of the awed, curious, and fearful student body surrounding him, eliciting abrupt gasps or squeaks of surprise.

To stay calm, or as calm as she could stay in the spotlight, Silence instead focused on booming words of the Headmage.

“If you must know, I was searching for the new student who'd failed to show up for orientation. You are the only one who has yet to be assigned a dorm. Step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I'll watch your cat.”

‘Not my cat—’ Grim seemed to agree with her thought, as he hissed through the gloved hand covering his mouth. Nevertheless, Silence continued forward without a word, steeling herself with a deep breath and finally lifting her gaze up.

Crowley wasn't lying about the Dark Mirror. It truly was dark. An entirely black, pristine surface yet still showed her reflection. But without anything else of interest, the hooded trainer’s attention nervously wandered to those nearest as she strode forward.

‘All so confident, cold, and colorful looking too…

White hair and glasses, another guy with white hair, but are those red eyes? How pretty...Red hair, oh he—probably he, I think, has silver eyes too...Purple tips, braids—

Wait, cat ears? Oh Pharoglyph, there's animal people here too. Of course, this is a fantasy world, the creators couldn't stop themselves from giving the characters die hard fans, could they?

And a floating tablet? The color scheme looks like Protogen...But that means this world isn't actually medieval at all…’

Her internal commenting was interrupted as a haunting, decorated mask appeared in the mirror before her in a brilliant flash of emerald flames. An aloof, emotionless voice called out, raised by a soft song of piano and xylophone. “State thy name.”

Silence paused. ‘Best to be honest, I suppose…’

Aware of the heavy silence ( To ordinary people ) that would amplify any sound, she uttered her true name, barely loud enough to be considered a whisper, hoping that whatever magic of the mirror would allow the face within to hear her, “Samara.”

Then hastily, quietly tacked on, “Samara the Loomian Trainer.”

Common people did not have last names, only those of societal importance or royal families were bestowed or chose one. Thus, the ordinary often said their professions after their names for better identification.

“The shape of thy soul is . . . ” The colorless mask squinted its black, hollow eyes, face scrunched up in focus. It was a strange, almost unnerving look for a porcelain mask, causing her to flinch, skin crawling with unease.

“. . . Savanaclaw.”

‘Savanaclaw.’ Silence repeated in her mind, hoping to every being above that this Savanaclaw dorm was good. The irritated groan that came from the cat boy who admittedly did not look at all like a nice person, and silence that she could actually Duskit-damn hear, did not assure her that Savanaclaw was good.

Crowley continued in a cheery voice that ignored all her anxiety and grated her nerves. “Wonderful! That does it! Now that the entrance ceremony can come to a close—”

Silence was feeling anything but wonderful, yet when did the world ever wait for her?

“Silence.” Said trainer immediately snapped back to reality upon hearing her alias, as a tense quiet once again descended upon the room. All eyes turned to the Dark Mirror. “It appears that I have read the shape of thy bird instead. I do not know the shape of thy soul.”

The trainer was suddenly aware of Zeus perched on the ground, near her heels. Unusually still and gazing curiously—no, cautiously at the Dark Mirror.

“Well,” Crowley’s tone gained an awkward stiffness to it. “We all have our mistakes. Go ahead, read the young man’s soul once again!”

‘Did you just call me a man—’

“No, you misunderstand.” The Dark Mirror frowned. “There is no magic in this mortal.”

Silence was suffering mental whiplash from this situation. ‘Oh. Guess I wasn't given magic at all, and I'm not going to this school either.’

“Come again?” She didn't need to look back to see the shock, maybe even horror on Crowley’s face, his voice told her enough. “You just said Savanaclaw, did you not?”

“Unlike the bird, this one has no magic. Not a single spark. Soundless. Colorless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant. There is nothing. Therefore, I recall my prior judgment—This one cannot be sorted into any dormitory.”

The effect was instantaneous. Waves of loud whispering rippled throughout the crowd, doubling the intensity of when she entered. The men Silence noted earlier all showed varying degrees of confusion, surprise, shock, but it was there and all the same nevertheless.

'Oh Searknight please save me.'

Silence squirmed, one hand clutching the fabric of her robe, the other clutching Rinkora and Apollo’s warm discs, both in a deathlike grip. Zeus shuffled forward to her side, rubbing his head against her leg and chirping softly in reassurance. It did little to help the storm churning in both her stomach and head.

‘Stop looking, stop whispering, please—’

Everything continued, the world cycling on, heedless to Silence’s internal plight.

“Are you suggesting that the black carriage went to receive a person who cannot use magic?” Crowley bellowed, the grip on his lash of love loosening in his confusion. “But that is absurd! The student selection process has not erred once in its century of existence! For the student’s familiar to have more magic than the student himself, even...”

“Mmmph! Nnnrgggh…” Crowley’s dying voice was overrunned by Grim, who bursted out of his prison, tiny limbs spread and blue flames in his ears high with heat, the same mischievous tune again appearing. “Me!! Let ME have that student's seat! If that dumb ugly bird can be sorted, then so can I!!”

Zeus squawked indignantly at the insult, wings outstretched, but Silence nudged his body with her foot, and the frantic look of desperation in her gray, dark eyes told him to stay. She was too overwhelmed. She could not handle more distress, especially if it would arise from her own Loomian.

Crowley called something out in protest, but Grim was louder, “If it's proof you need, then I have plenty! My spells are the cat’s meow!”

Silence’s mind reeled from the poorly made joke, as sapphire flames immediately erupted from Grim’s mouth with every little jump he made, directed to all those around him. Screams and shrieks echoed around her, as the students abandoned the area with haste and staff whipped out their wands-casters-whatever in an effort to quell the blaze, though they all sounded distant with her mind zoning in on the danger. Zeus flew in front of her, shielding her from the dangerous heat with his robust body and wings, but Silence had already ducked out of the way, dodging a plume of flames aimed for her.

“Somebody catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school ablaze!” Crowley’s panicked voice rose above the crackling and screeches.

Silence registered the talking of the observed men near her, even one that was yelping wildly while trying to put out fiery flames on his rear, but she was much too focused on staying out of the line of fire to pay them any attention.

Once she deemed herself safe enough, away from the inferno and a part of the scrambling crowd as Zeus fluttered above her, Silence took one singular moment to take a deep breath. She took another moment to check that her internal screaming hadn't upgraded to external screaming ( Yet ), while mentally reviewing all the shit that had occurred. ( And definitely not holding tears back, no sir )

Pharoglyph, she was so tired, and it had only been one, single night. A night full of confusion, fire, and disaster. Her social battery had run out long ago in the halls, her mental battery was drained at this moment, but everything was not over yet.

The plotline does not stop for the protagonist.

Some time during her tiny internal mental breakdown, two of the students she observed, one of white hair and another with similar gray eyes as her, had taken upon the duty of stopping Grim. And they were failing, because they weren't blessed ( or cursed ) with the ability to see the game mechanics like her.

A new damned rhythm theme of magic and dramatics had appeared, accompanied by the ugly sounds of failure as the two men shot their magic at the wrong times. Silence could see it. This time, the notes were floating in the air, two notes in fact. Blue and red, both gravitating towards their respective colored target points. The red outlined target point directly on Grim’s head, the blue on the center of his furry chest.

The two were widely off the mark, their timing horrible as Grim speedily dodged every shot of sparkly magic with cheer, jeers, and streams of fire spewing out of his mouth. They raced around the mostly empty, absurdly large Mirror Chamber, with the lingering students rushing out of the way. It was utter chaos, punctuated further by the awful noise of notes disappearing away from their target points.

They wouldn't be getting anywhere at this point. It was time for Silence, the magicless protagonist, to step in, ( Even if she is still trying to wrangle the last remaining bits of her composure together ).

She glanced at the remaining infernos in the distance, still blazing strong. ‘If this school is full of magic wielding people, why haven’t they put it out yet?’ Silence tsked, considering calling Damian out to summon a Tsunami. Though, if the people here had reacted poorly to an Avitross, one of the more ordinary looking Loomians, who knows how they would react to a Cephalops?

People in her world already reacted badly enough to him, and it was always better to tackle the root of the problem rather than the branches sprouting from it. Besides, the property damage and fire weren't her problem, it was Crowley's, and well-deserved too. Silence shifted her gaze to the ensuing fight, watching the moving notes carefully. The crimson haired boy seemed to be snapping something rude to his companion, if the disgruntled look on his face said anything, but it allowed his red note to continue further towards its target point.

“Zeus.” The Loomian’s head immediately snapped down towards her.

“Nosedive at my call, towards the cat's head. If you miss, use Driving Force afterwards.”

An affirming caw was let out, as Zeus propelled himself to the ceiling with a few strong beats of his massive wings. Avitrosses are fast and soundless flyers, hard to notice in the skies, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Silence drilled holes into the cat's head, staring at the vermillion target point and the moving note.

That star marked circle crawled near it's match, close, so close.

“Now.”

A rushing blur of dark feathers silently soared through the air, enveloped by a light blue glow and gathering wind. Grim, too distracted by the two, obvious attackers behind him, did not notice the predator plummeting down from high above, until Zeus’s shadow surrounded him as he crashed down at the very instant the cerise note overlapped its target point.

A cheery ding rang out as dozens of cerulean, abnormal gales cycled around the two colliding creatures. When the azure wind finally died down, what was left was a very dazed and bruised Grim, laying underneath the talons of a satisfied, proud looking Zeus.

The dramatic music faded away, replaced by a softer melody. Unfortunately, it came with echoing muttering and talk breaking out among the remaining people in the Mirror Chamber, all remarking about how Zeus truly had used magic.

Silence supposes it appeared as magic, especially with the burst of blue air appearing around the two afterwards, but it had all been an ordinary thing in her world, simply something that Air-Type Loomians were capable of. Wielding the winds to their favor.

The trainer pressed a button on the side of her collar, and a long ring, similar to whistling, sharply slashed through the noise around her. Zeus perked up, and flew over the crowd to Silence.

“You okay?” Zeus nodded, chirping in response.

Nosedive didn't do much damage to the performer anyway, but it was a general question, considering all that had occurred tonight.

A booming “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!" snapped the two out of their little bubble, and needless to say, Silence does not want to ever go near the rose red haired boy, Riddle, ( Wonderful name, really, ) and his Queen of Hearts’ rules anytime soon, considering how he had successfully summoned a magic sealing collar onto the cat.

She could only imagine what could occur if she ends up on the receiving end of his ability, with her apparently magic wielding Loomians at her side. As if the stress of this entire night wasn't enough.

“Young man!” And it seemed that more stress was coming to her, in the form of a scolding Crowley and the collared Grim in his hand. “Was I not clear that you are expected to take responsibility for your familiar? Now discipline-”

A threatening, screechy caw sounded from beside her, cutting Crowley’s words off. Silence sent Zeus a very grateful look, which he responded with a smaller, calmer chirp.

“He isn't mine.” Silence stated, punctuated with a harsh glare. The most she would express on rare days, because the mental exhaustion and worry for her circumstances within her warped into an internal, boiling frustration ready to burst past the floodgates. “I told you before, but you just didn't listen.”

“Oh...Is that so?” An awkward smile was plastered on Crowley’s very punchable face. He made an ahem sound and continued on without a pause. It grated Silence’s already frayed nerves. “Then I shall have it expelled from campus. I shall even spare it from being served as dinner. My, but I am kind...Someone take this weasel away, please.”

A man with black and white hair, sporting a similarly colored coat sighed, and picked up the yowling cat by the end of the heart shaped collar, walking out the doors with a string of irritated muttering.

Silence watched without a word. One part of her was curious about the creature, ( So similar to loomians, which Silence always had a curiosity for ) with the simple desire to attend Night Raven College, and his seemingly endless determination, unhesitant to do anything to complete that desire, even if he seemed to be lacking in the brains department. The other side was satisfied that the whiny, arrogant black Kittone that had threatened her life with its flames was gone, another stress inducing factor removed from the overwhelming problem of her situation.

Her attention was snatched away by the Dustkit-dressed headmage. “Well, that was quite the unexpected fracas.”

Crowley shook his head in an exasperated manner, before turning to the crowd of remaining students. “I hereby declare that orientation has concluded. Housewardens,”

His head was aimed toward the group of young men that were closer to the mirror and carpeted walkway, the ones Silence observed earlier. ‘Huh, they must be important if the Headmage himself is talking to them…as incompetent as he is.’

“Please escort your students back to the dorms…” Crowley blinked, before turning his head around, clearly searching for something, or someone. “Hm? Come to think of it, I don't see Housewarden Draconia of House Diasomnia anywhere.”

The moment that name, Draconia, was spoken, fearful and anxious chatter erupted within the chamber. Even the Housewardens, leaders of the houses from what Silence could tell, spoke of him with caution, making up a rather sad excuse for his lack of invitation.

‘Another one to watch out for...Draconia, draco, dragon, maybe he has dragon traits? If cat boys exist here, dragon boys probably do too...Then it's no wonder people fear him. At least he seems to have a friend, though I should watch out for him too.’

She watched the black and magenta haired man walk away, a crowd of students trailing behind him. To be friends with a part dragon, widely feared man, she wondered what kind of person the short, yet deep voiced boy was.

Footsteps echoed throughout the chamber, as all the housewardens and their new members left, with the background music once again shifting to a new gentle song of piano.

The last person exited the room, the grand door shutting behind them with a resounding bang, leaving her with only the headmage. Crowley turned to Silence, an expression of sympathy lined with firmness on his features. “Well, this is a most unfortunate turn of events. I'm afraid that you will not be attending Night Raven College after all. Surely you realize that I cannot very well admit a student with no magical ability to my academy. Even if your bird curiously possesses it, you do not.”

Silence, who had walked up to the carpet amidst the departure of the students, simply nodded along without a word. She doubted the man would stop to hear her anyway.

“But worry not. The Dark Mirror will see you safely home.” A hand was placed on her back, causing her to jolt, but it merely ushered her closer to another hovering coffin she hadn't noticed before. “Now, step into the gate, and visualize the place from whence you came.”

The trainer blinked, narrowing her eyes at both the dark mirror and floating coffin in suspicion. ‘This— No way the game would end like this— The protagonist going home after all that Shawchi shit that would definitely raise interest?’

Silence, with a slightly baffled expression, looked to Crowley, who merely nodded encouragingly. “Go on. I don't have time to dilly dally with my duty as headmage of this school!”

She stepped forward, resigned with a small, “Alright…”

‘Eh, whatever, I'll play along anyway. See where this goes.’

Fishing out the vacant Loomian Disc from within her weighed pocket, the trainer turned to her Avitross with a thankful smile, and pressed the button. The bird, with an encouraging expression on his face, sent out one last chirp of farewell, before returning to the disc in a flash of brilliant white light.

Pocketing the disc, Silence glances at Crowley to gauge his reaction. The man only wore a face of surprise, but didn't comment on the act.

‘Knew it. Another entirely whole new game, without Loomians or discs.’ She shuffled forward into the coffin, froze when it seemed to shake with her weight before stilling once again. Straightening her shoulders and plopping her bag onto the side, she said with a quick breath and shutting of her eyes. “...Okay, I'm ready.”

“O Dark Mirror! Return this soul to where it belongs!”

The red houses and wide grassy plains of her hometown, filled with loomians scurrying around with their trainers, barks and chirps echoing all throughout the neighborhood.

The calming blues of her own house and her mother’s loomian lab, the colorful, friendly starter loomians she grew up with greeting her at the door.

The hand of her grinning father ruffling her messy hair whenever she visits him in the dig site, the gentle voice of her smiling mother whenever she asks a question about loomians.

Her family, her home, her loomians. Silence can see them all, within the confines of her mind. And she misses it. She knows she will miss it for much, much longer within this foregin, new game.

"...—try this again.” Crowley’s voice, tinged with a hint of nervousness, breaks her vivid daydream. “O Dark mirror! Guide this-"

“There is no such place.”

“What?” Silence, opening her eyes, peeks her head out of the coffin at the sound of Crowley’s confusion. She's not confused, however, she expected this.

The mask in the mirror continues. “There is no place in this world where this soul belongs. None.”

‘World. The mirror said no place in this world, and I'm from a different game. A different world.’

“How can that be? My, but today is a veritable cavalcade of impossible phenomena!” Seeing that Crowley was not going to try sending her back anymore, Silence took that as cue to step out of the gate, slinging her bag across her back while doing so.

The headmage turned towards her, shaking his head in clear disbelief. “This has never happened throughout my long tenure. I must confess that I am at something of a loss. Tell me, from what land do you hail?”

Silence thought for a second, then opted for the one place everyone knew. “Roria.”

‘Actually, Mitis Town is where I was born, and the Entertainment District of Atlanthian City was where I was before I came here, but they're both in Roria so…’

Crowley’s expression only became more bewildered. “I'm afraid I am not familiar with such a place.”

Silence expected such an answer, yet that didn't stop her from continuing to pry, descriptions of every area she has visited flooding her brain in desperation, and a drop of misplaced hope.

“Atlanthian City? The city famous for being underwater? Or Sepharite City and POLUT Corp, the best technology company in the region? Heiwa Village and Silvent City?”

Crowley’s face and shake of his head said everything.

‘Of course he doesn't know, this is an entirely different game. This is probably all part of the plot as well…’

Placing a hand on his chin, Crowley murmured, looking thoughtful for once, “I am intimately acquainted with the origins of every student who has ever come here, and yet...these mysterious locations of your homeland eludes me.”

Silence quietly sighed, gaze casted down, ‘Obviously, I'm not from this game—world.’

“Pray tell, what is your name again?” Crowley asks, cocking his head to the side, so reminiscent of a bird. “You stated it so quietly during orientation I could not hear.”

A burn of embarrassment and anxiety coils around Silence’s stomach for a second as she nervously says, “Err…”

‘He's a stranger, not a friend or family. He has no right to know your real name.’ The trainer steels herself, reminded of the cold, unyielding and ruthless hands of fate.

“Silence.”

Only a reasonable confusion appears on Crowley’s face.

“It's what I usually go by—” Silence rushes out, hands clinging to her robes, to her discs.

“Silence, I see. An odd name to match your odd circumstances.” Crowley gives her a smile, which she assumes to be a comforting one, but her mind screams that it is not.

Her mind screams that nothing is okay anymore.

“Then, let us go to the library and attempt to look up your homeland, shall we?”

Silence briefly wonders what will become of her now, with everything here being a stranger and potential danger.

But she continues forward nevertheless, like always, for she is never alone.

The discs within her pocket buzz comfortingly.

Chapter Text

The library was certainly fitting for a world of magic. Lights turned on by themselves with only the snap of fingers as a cue, wooden intricate old architecture, and a variety of colorful leather bound books everywhere but on a surface, their pages like wings for them to hover in the air, unfettered by gravity.

‘This place seems to like floating things…’ Silence mused, trying not to glance at the book flapping and floating near her, as she pretended to be pouring over a large map of the land that Crowley had placed down.

She didn't try to search for any mention of her world, for she already knew there would be nothing.

‘The isekai genre is too popular. Damn you Japan.’

Crowley, after browsing through another row of shelves, finally slumped down on top of the part of the map labeled the Coral Sea.

‘How creative. I wonder what could be in it.’ The stress of the night was truly souring her mood. Well, her mood already was soured the moment she woke up in this new world, away from her own.

Her expressionless, innocent face revealed none of its irritation nor despair to Crowley. His exhaustion likely helped with that, as he sighed, extravagant hat placed down and a hand carding through his sleek, dark hair. “Just as I expected. Nothing.”

He glanced at her, face full of exhaustion and confusion on his features. “Your homeland and the locations you have told me are not listed at any point in history.”

‘Of course.’ Silence thought, eyes casted down. Nothing could change that fact. Everything she has ever known is away from her grasp, drifting in the air like leaves taken by the wind, like her dreams shredded apart by her inevitable fate. Everything is gone. Nothing is as it was. The life she could have lived has been robbed from her, again.

Silent stares at her hands, shaking slightly, and unaware of Crowley’s golden haze being flooded by suspicion, and a hint of concern. “Miss Silence, are you quite sure that you come from such a place? This isn't some sort of lie or jape?”

Silence startles, an imperceptible flinch wracking her frame, anxiety heavy in her stomach, hands grasping her cloak. Yet at this point she is too emotionally drained to truly react to anything. Numbness tightens its unfeeling hands on her, keeping her anxiety in a cage. Locking her happiness in a barbed wire covered box.

The discs within her pocket buzz comfortingly.

"O-Of course not, I'm as confused as you are…" Silence mumbles out, jaw tight. The mechanical voice leaving her collar is as blank as ever.