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The change was… it feels like a cop-out to say it was indescribable. Part of them–Mark, most likely, but the distinction is hard to discern and of little practical consequence–is annoyed by the lovecraftian cliche. The change was confusion, an incomprehensible tangle of limbs and sound and identities and radio equipment. Mark wasn’t sure where he ended and they began as the beings of power and will he'd summoned drew close around him, wove into him, became him. (Or he became them. Semantics.)
They remember Mark’s fear as he became aware of their impending multiplicity of self. Would they overwhelm him, overpower him? If his own will was dissolved, watered down by their new selves, then all of this, the Cult, the play, the rituals upon rituals, would be for nothing. Dan would stay lost. He couldn’t let that happen.
They won’t let that happen. Mark’s motivation became Dromen’s, a singular drive that unified their disoriented new form and pulled them towards action. Whatever other interests they hold, whatever concepts and ideas and convictions swim in the sea of themselves, this goal is clear and solid. Bring Dan home. They like things that are clear and solid, the way some of them used to be. They also like Dan. They are unsure how much of this can be attributed to the strength of Mark’s will within their whole, and how much is a more objective appreciation informed by his memories. They suppose the reason does not matter when their feelings remain regardless.
A lot of their introspections end in similar conclusions. It is rarely useful attempting to untangle their individualities, to parse which qualities originally come from whom, as pointless as trying to dredge a specific grain of salt from the ocean. They can make guesses sometimes–their journalistic knowledge comes from Mark, their memories of flying come from the one who used to have wings–but such reasoning never changes who they are now. Many of their memories, the weaker ones, bleed into one another, merging and warping into events that objectively didn’t happen, but remain as real as any story–that is to say, entirely real in the experience they create.
As pointless as it is, Dromen has ample time for introspection. The decades-long wait between steps in their rituals was something they'd anticipated, but they hadn't been truly prepared for the amount of time they now had to themselves. They spent some of that time ingratiating themselves to the Cult, currying favor to stay in its good graces despite their status as an "abomination." They still aren't sure how they feel about that descriptor. Part of them bristles at the clearly derogatory connotation, but they don't have it in them to disagree–not after everything they've done to get here. Sometimes it numbs the guilt knowing that free will is an illusion and there was never any other choice to make. Mostly this knowledge is disquieting. They prefer not to think about it.
It is nicer when they have things to do, when they can focus their thoughts and efforts on more material ends. Simpler. Lately they’ve been releasing the podcast again, picking up where Mark left off before the foray into time travel. Some of the fans who believe the podcast to be a work of fiction were impatient for the release of season two. If only they knew that, for Dromen, the wait had been several decades longer. Still, it feels good to work on it again, knowing that their efforts will soon come to fruition. Dan will come home, and soon LMG will be too hampered by the Cult to chase him down again with any efficacy. If they do, Dromen is confident in their own ability to protect him.
They are less confident in how Dan will react to such protection, or to their presence in general. Dan is good with Weirdness–they’ve heard his (much too generous, in their opinion) treatment of the being known as Rat, and they’re sure Dan would not treat them unkindly, but… Dan did not know Rat before he became what he is. Dromen may be too little or too much of Mark for Dan to reconcile. A friend distorted, if not beyond recognition then perhaps beyond comfort. Not too Weird, just too weird. They do not like dwelling on the possibility, but if Dan does not want them around, they will not impose. They can protect him from a distance if need be.
Their train of thought is interrupted as one of their caretakers enters the room with a tray of food, assembled from one of the meal kit services that sponsored the podcast. Dromen utters a “Thank you” to the Cult member, who sighs with annoyance and places the tray down on a table before quickly departing. Taking care of Dromen is not a popular task, and some of their associates are less enthusiastic than others. They assess the tray of food. Today’s meal is spiced lentils with basmati rice and coconut yogurt–family sized, as they have mouths to feed. When they even have mouths, anyway. Dromen has mused before on the strangeness of their still needing to eat with such a nebulous physical form. They suppose they should be grateful that they can still eat, can still enjoy the physical pleasures of food and the comfort they provide. The world seems a kinder place for it. They make a mental note to mention that in the next ad read.