Recheov lifted his hand and index finger, a sure-fire way of saying "correct." He brought it back down and folded his arms again shortly after.

"Exactly what I'm sayin'," Recheov replied.

A bit of heavy news to bear, but Eld wanted to know. Recheov was content to just leave that be something he figured out on his own . . .

"An' that's exactly what's wrong with 'er."

Which still came down to the same issue Recheov explained before. Eld couldn't not fight with Kageko. Fighting with her potentially harmed her, yet against the threats he had up ahead of him, he'd only get himself killed if he tried to use her sparingly.

That was...not good. Not good at all. Against someone like Illorex he couldn't simply not use Kageko; in all likelihood he'd get killed, and then the Memories would have her power to use and abuse as they wished. But at the same time, if he ended up killing Illorex with the way things stood, how could he claim to be any better than him? As much as he hated the man right now, he deserve that.

"...Do you know I can get her back to normal? Something must have happened...she wasn't like this before." That was the only hope then: that he could find a way to cure Kageko before he went to confront Illorex (or any other Memories came after him, for that matter).

Recheov shook his head. "Sad t'say, but no."

It was like trying to be cured of the need to breath. There was one method: stop breathing. Of course, that killed you eventually, but you'd be cured of the need to breath. Kageko, however, couldn't stop doing that. She could die a thousand deaths, yet her life was still tied to that scythe. She was effectively immortal. Nothing could be changed about her, so long as her life was tied to the scythe.

"She's a shade," Recheov shrugged his shoulders, "It's just what shades do. S'like you an' me. Our 'earts beat, 'cause that's what our bodies do. S'part of our anatomy. Same thing goes for shades. An' even if it could be stopped, Kageko ain't mortal like us. Way she is in there, ya can cut 'er arm off one day an' she'll 'ave it back the next."

He paused and set his jaw, looking back down onto Hillcrest. "All ya can do is wait for 'er to relax. Which sucks, 'cause ya don't really 'ave the time t'do that."

Eld remained silent for a bit. But no matter how much he wished it were otherwise, Recheov was right: he couldn't afford to sit around and wait for Kageko to get better. And if he got in a fight with Illorex--or someone of comparable power--not using her wouldn't be an option either.

"...Is that really what they'll do?" he asked eventually. "They'll wipe out humanity if they get ahold of her?"

He wasn't sure what the Memories wanted with Kageko, but that it could be something that grand, or that it was even possible, was completely mind-boggling to him.

"Mm. 'Nough souls, and ya get buy a guy like me -- just a lowly ol' temporary Memory -- a life an' death like your's," Recheov replied, "An' I tell ya, that's 'bout the only thing we ever wanted from this life. S'the thing we've been denied for years, too. We'd all kill for it."

Though, Recheov didn't specify if he personally would kill for that option -- or opportunity, rather. He also didn't sound all that interested in the concept, either.

"Anyway, kid, there's a bit more to your worries," Recheov turned to face Eldridge.

Again, he pointed down at the clinic.

"Illorex took your girl's identity. The id, ego, superego an' all that? The guidin' forces that make ya conscious an' human? He's got all of that from 'er. Ya got nothin' left. No instincts, no wants, no drives -- nothin'. You're just an empty husk. Even your body don't keep up; it all starts shuttin' down, piece by piece. Ya saw 'er, right? Girl's pale as a ghost. Probably won't make it through the week."

At the mention of Etsu's impending death, Eld visibly paled and went wide-eyed. It was a bad condition, that much he knew, but the other family had recovered from it, so he hadn't thought it fatal. But at the thought of losing her, a feeling he tried very hard to suppress began to claw up his gut.

He fought it back down. "How long will it take to reach the Unreal City?" Recheov had said it was east, but he neglected to mention how far. What would he do if it was impossible to make it there (and possibly back) in time?

"Varies. Geology don't work 'round it. All depends on 'ow close to non-existence ya are. A new Memory can walk forever 'til they find it. An old Memory can find it in an hour. You? I figure it'll take ya a day," he paused to breath, "None of 'em are gonna like it, you bargin' in an' wotnot, but . . . well . . ."

That's the risk one had to take. Recheov paused for a long time, only staring down at the village, thinking back to the time he was here. What it was like. What he was like. What he would have done now if he was the same man. He'd have probably tried to kill Eld where he stood, but then he'd have just gotten himself killed trying. He knew a lot about Eld, an eery amount, which meant just as well that he knew the futility of trying to fight him evenly.

Besides, that wasn't the man Recheov was anymore. Begrudging though his admittance of it was, he was at least changed for the better.

"You know wot you gotta do now, kid," Recheov said, his inflection soft and noticeably rueful, "Illorex ain't comin' back. Means you only got one option 'ere, if she really matters to ya . . ."

"...Yeah." There was no way around it. He had to go to the Unreal City, and he had to leave as soon as possible, regardless of how well recovered he was. He couldn't afford to waste any time, not with Etsu's life on the line. He'd finish anything he needed to prepare tonight, and leave first thing in the morning.

He was tempted to leave right that instant, but something stopped him. Recheov had certainly provided him with a lot of information, and Eld was inclined to believe him; he'd proven to know much, in anything too much, about his situation.

"Why tell me all this?" he asked quietly. "You said you don't want humanity to be wiped out...but that doesn't mean you have to help me." There were other things Recheov could have done, if that was his goal; he could taken the scythe--run off with it when he found it in the woods, or even killed Eld right then while he was still recovering. He might even be able to kill him right now. And then he could hide Kageko, or take it with him. Saving humanity did not necessarily mean helping Eldridge Tsukimono.

"Why?" Recheov asked rhetorically, then shrugged his shoulders.

He wanted to sit down. Have a drink. Have a smoke. Take a load off and let the guilt wash out in the rinse. He knew it wasn't an option, though. Knew it wasn't going to happen. Not 'til it was too late. But he didn't like thinking that far ahead. It felt wrong.

"Inevitability, kid," he said.

That got him looking down at the village again, but not just an overview. He looked at the people. The guy walking his little girl to her friend's house. Eventually, he was going to get old and die. His daughter would bury him later and they'd all shed tears over the matter. Your children bury you. That's just how life works. It's inevitable. When that inevitability is busted, there's a problem. And here, this -- Recheov looked at his own life. He knew the inevitability of it and he knew it was better to stay on that path. There was as much tragedy from deviation as there was that man burying his daughter early.

"It governs our lives 'til the day we die," he breathed a moment, "I got every reason to bash your skull in, but that just ain't wot I do. Inevitably, I 'elp your sorry ass out. Way I figure it, we might as well skip the fuckin' melodrama, an' get this show on the road . . ."

"Inevitability, huh..."

He wondered just what outcome Recheov saw as inevitable. Although he was helping Eld, it sounded like he'd rather kill him. Did he believe it was futile to try? Or maybe he believed he'd get himself killed trying to save Etsu anyway...

But ultimately, it didn't matter. He didn't care what fate had in store, he would do everything in his power to save Etsu...even if he had to do something monstrous to succeed. Death was the only thing that was truly inevitable; all he could do was try and ensure it came to his enemies before it caught up with him.

"For what it's worth, thanks. I'd better go prepare." He had a lot to do, and little time to do it .

"Mm," Recheov nodded to Eld.

And that was all he said to Eld. He let the boy leave, and ultimately sat down upon the hill himself, dangling his legs over the edge and staring, this time to the sky. He stayed like this for a long time, simply staring at the clouds and waiting for the sun to be long gone over the horizon. Recheov didn't count the hours.

Inevitably, the night came.

"Well, Kali," Recheov whispered, eyes still locked onto the sky.

The cloud cover was thick and it was hard to catch a glimpse of everything beyond it, but there were breaks here and there and Recheov was able to see a few stray lights. Tiny little bulbs in the sky, hanging as a constant reminder of a one-world unity. That two people could look to the sky at the same time and stand under the same blanket of stars. Recheov lips turned to a sad smile as he felt stray anxiety catch in his chest.

"Guess this's the last night we get t'be under the same stars, huh?"