"Wait, you're . . .?" Nike trailed off.

His expression shifted from surprised to solemn. He was about to ask if Dagan was serious, but Nike knew Dagan-- for longer than Dagan currently knew himself, for that matter. Dagan was a sincere and genuine person. It made him crap for telling jokes, but still-- there was a good reason Nike and Seras were so attached to him.

What kind of friend am I, huh? I was about ready to fight him, too. Nike thought to himself shortly before sulking his head and shoulders.

He felt the need to say more, but likewise knew it was probably a bad idea. Dagan was serious, after all. He was being generous, but that could only go so far. If they waited too long, the Seeker might catch up with them--and if that happened, Dagan would have no choice but to bring them to Attis, at the very least. Attis was someone Nike could trust, but trust didn't go far enough, not with this issue. Nike trusted half the people in the unreal city, but that didn't make his existence there any less painful.

Nike owed Dagan. He made a mental note: should they meet again, Nike would help Dagan through any bind he might ever come across.

". . . thank you," Nike said loud enough for Dagan to hear.

And with that, he turned away from Dagan, faced the rift in the world once again, and stepped forward until the tips of his boots touched the ledge.

Dagan silently held a hand up beside him and waved Nike off: 'no problem,' he thought to himself. Most likely, Attis’ was going to be awfully disappointed and Dagan really didn’t want to let him down... But this was Nike and Sera’s choice, nobody else’s: that was how he saw and rationalized it, at least.

It was when Nike turned away from Dagan that the latter would finally (also) turn to his friend, to watch him depart and see the results of his decision. Thankfully (and for the best), Dagan didn’t regret his decision and would make it all over again, if he had to.

Nike bumped elbows with Seras to get her attention. However difficult she was finding it to breath, what with Dagan willingly letting them go despite everything, Seras nodded to him. She looked down at his feet, noted how close he was to taking the leap, and took a step forward herself. She lined up with him, looked up, and met his eyes. A moment passed in silence, the two of them watch each other's eyes, feeling out each other's emotions; it was like engaging in a silent conversation, one utterly incomprehensible and incapable of being put to words, but something only those two could ever experience together.

Soon after, Nike broke eye contact, took a deep breath, and kicked forward. Taking a step wasn't enough. Taking a step guaranteed he'd hit the cliff face on the way down. He had to throw himself out there, and when he did, he looked outright practiced.

Seras, on the other hand, stayed behind. She didn't intend for it to be long, only long enough to share a word with Dagan. As Nike disappeared into the fog and the darkness below it, Seras spun around to face Dagan, took a quick couple of steps, approached, and took his hand in both of hers.

"Dagan, can . . . can you do something for me?" Seras asked urgently . . . and she wasn't going to let go of Dagan's hand until he said yes, either. Even if he had to take her back to Attis and leave Nike alone . . . that would have been a better fate for her than if Dagan couldn't make her this promise. "Please?"

Sera gave Dagan a start, but he did at least accept her hands; it must have been important of she was willing to delay things further. Time was not a commodity to be squandered at the moment, after all.

“What?” he asked, wanting to know what it was before making the promise.

Seras looked past Dagan once, if only to make sure they weren't being followed yet. It was only a matter of time, though-- but that was fine. This was something Seras was fully prepared to deal with. She had only looked away for a split second, and soon had her eyes on Dagan's again.

"Talk to Suri," she requested, squeezing Dagan's hand tightly as she did. "Go home and . . . and talk to Suri. Ask her to help you remember."

It was important to her, personally, that Dagan remember. It was all her fault that he'd forgotten it all and she was well aware of that. And Dagan needed to be aware of that, too. If she had no guarantee that he was going to pursue his memory, then she'd find no comfort in the real world . . .

"Please."

“Alright. Yeah, --- I can promise that, I think. I’ll talk to Suri as soon as I get back, but you, you have to leave now.”

Although his words were rushed and he was trying to hurry Sera, there was also a melancholy undertone, just behind his urgency and worry, and it did well enough to show Dagan was not indifferent about this; that he would prefer them to stay or some alternative option explored, but this was all there was. Either they leave or Dagan takes them to Attis or worse of all, The Seeker could show up.

"Th-thanks," Seras smiled some.

Which was weird, actually. She felt the need to thank Dagan for making her that promise, even though she knew how he'd feel about her after the fact . . .

"You're . . . you're going to hate me. When you know," Seras said sheepishly, "But . . . but I'm okay with that, so long as you know--"

She cut herself off at that point and broke down from her demeanor, degraded from thankful and meek to alert and urgent.

Prompted by Seras looking over Dagan's shoulder again, though, she recoiled from him and ripped her hands away from his. Without skipping a beat, Seras threw her fist into Dagan's jaw, which would have been more of a surprise than anything else. Even by a normal person's standards, though, it wouldn't have hurt. It was a tap, for all intents and purposes, but it really looked like she belted Dagan in the jaw. And with that, she wasted no time in spinning around, racing for the ledge, and diving into the darkness below.

The reason, of course, would be evident to Dagan if he were to look behind him: the Seeker just arrived. His silhouette could be seen approaching from the distance. Seras didn't punch Dagan out of enmity or hate. No, she hit him to save his reputation-- maybe even his life.

The hand that accepted Sera's grasp moved to where she had struck instead. It wasn't until after she turned around and left that he understood why she did it; in fact, he did not even need to turn around to confirm his suspicions. Still, Dagan didn't try and sell that it hurt, The Seeker would've probably seen through that, and instead he just stood there and looked into the abyss, looked to where she had jumped.

He frowned and thought: not yet, but soon. I’ll see you guys on the other side.

“What took you?” he called out casually to The Seeker.

He was too late. By the time he arrived, Nike was gone. He hadn't even got there in time to get Seras, who could have easily told him about Nike and his plans. The Seeker could have made that girl talk. He could have made her sing. It was regrettable that he hadn't arrived in time . . .

". . . the one you know as 'Attis'," replied the Seeker.

It was actually the first time he used Attis's name for the whole duration of Dagan knowing this man, and even then, he used it in the most noncommittal way possible. It was almost like he had a name for Attis that Dagan and others either did not know or did not use.

The Seeker passed Dagan by, walking much more casual, now, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He stopped once he was at the ledge, where he leaned forward enough to look down. All he saw was a dark abyss cloaked in an endless fog. If he hadn't known any better, he'd have said that Nike and Seras must have died from the fall. But alas, that wasn't possible, considering the nature of this place.

"Hhh. Sounds about right, I guess.”

Dagan had nothing else to say to The Seeker; at least, nothing that would not conclude with him and The Seeker having a disagreement of sorts. In the end, they were at odds now, even if one of them didn’t know it, and Dagan thought it best to simply leave; he did just that.

Turning around without a word, he started to head back towards the city, but it was a casual walk he started at and The Seeker would have plenty of time to interrupt that walk, if he chose to; otherwise, the speed of Dagan's stride was gradually increase and he would disappear from sight before long.

Dagan was gone. The Seeker made no attempt to stop him. Dagan wasn't a valuable asset to his investigation, anyways. At least, that's what it had turned into. He had no answers, only questions. It was something he thrived on, to a greater extent. A purpose to follow; questions to find answers to; persons to hunt. It was a mystery, and mysteries were not new to this man. Without mysteries, he'd have been devoid of purpose in this Unreal world.

This was only one scene for the mystery, however. One of two "crime" scenes. Here was where Nike escaped with Seras.

Needless to say, the Seeker had no intentions of leaving just yet. He paced, walked the length of the chasm for as long as he could, stopped short when he concluded that there was no feasible end to it on the eastern side, and then returned west, to the location in which Nike and Seras escaped. For ease of returning, he marked it. Technically this was disturbing the scene, but that didn't matter. If there were clues here, they weren't physical. Firing off a round of pure energy to scar the gray earth a few yards behind the chasm wasn't going to put any more dents in the investigation than there already were.

Not even an hour later, though, the Seeker caught an image out of the corner of his eyes. He looked off into the expanse, one less empty than before. In the distance there approached a silhouette, perusing through on foot across the chasm, one foot after another in casual progression upon the surface of nothing, as if walking upon the air itself. The distant shadow drew something from its hips, prompting the Seeker to drop his hands by his sides and loosen up his neck . . .

With The Seeker neither suspecting nor making a visible effort to stop him, Dagan would return to the Unreal City, devoid (mostly) of guilt, but even still, he felt bad for Attis; in the end, he only did what he thought was right, and that was all any one person could hope to do. Regardless, it was not Attis that Dagan went to see once he arrived in the city; rather, it was to Suri.

If Suri could help Dagan regain his memories, even if just a portion of them, then of course he would go to see her, it was not even for Sera’s sake, though that did play a role in it, but instead, he really just wanted to remember. It drove him crazy to not remember.

Still, Dagan also had to find Suri; he figured Sera’s apartment was the best place to start, and that was where he headed.

Dagan's first guess was actually his best possible guess. Either luck or pure intuition was on his side, because when he showed up at Seras's apartment, the door was already wide open. The room was perfectly cleaned up, all piles and messes arranged and organized, and Suri was plopped down upon the couch at the far end of the room, sulking her head and shoulders and doing all she possibly could to avoid the horrible feeling she was getting in her heart.

There was a note in her lap, all clad with words of apology, but Suri couldn't stop herself from feeling abandoned and hurt by Seras's departure--an issue which only doubled in tenacity, as she hated herself for even feeling the most remote of horrible feelings for Seras. Seras was not someone she was supposed to feel bad about. She was not to be hated. Seras saved Suri's life. Made sure that she would survive and be comfortable. Yet still, Suri couldn't stop experiencing this feeling of betrayal. It sincerely hurt.

Cleaning up Seras's apartment didn't make it any better, though. It helped take her mind off of it, but once she was done and sulking, her thoughts all went right back to the horrid feeling in her chest.

Nevertheless, Suri didn't notice Dagan at the door.

Silently, Dagan marveled at how clean Sera’s place was; in fact, it was almost a completely different room compared to how it had been last time he visited the place. Suri’s demeanor was not lost on Dagan, he hesitated to call out, not wanting to disturb her, but then he figured maybe she could use the company; hell, he felt like maybe he could use the company, too.

A soft rapping sound came from the doorway as Dagan knocked on the frame and entered Sera’s residence, greeting Suri with a wave once she noticed him.

“Hello again.” He smiled and stopped just a few feet from her, “how’ve you been?”

The knocking alerted Suri to Dagan's presence, though didn't quite cause her to jump. She merely looked up and smiled sadly. To a lesser extent, she felt as if she'd known he was there all along, a fact which quite frankly did not make her feel any better right now. So she just chose to ignore it. She especially chose to ignore the gut feeling she was having, that somewhere in her heart, she knew Dagan was hurting, and she knew that perhaps he was hurting for very similar reasons as she. That knowledge alone terrified her, making it best left ignored . . .

"Hey . . ." she said meekly, trailing her syllable off until she fell into a solemn silence again.

Horrible was what she could have told him. Horrible now. Until recently, though, she'd been great. Seras had taken her around the city, showed her all the sights worth seeing. She didn't mind that Suri hadn't grown fond of the place Attis gave her to live just yet and was just fine with Suri staying with her. She and Seras talked and talked and talked and Suri was under the belief that they'd become genuine friends. It made her happy. Yes, until recently, Suri was the happiest she could remember herself ever being.

But now all that had changed. Rather than responding verbally, Suri merely shook her head, shut her eyes, and sighed. The question of now what? lingered and made her feel all the worse . . .