Winn considered for a second, then answered, showing that there was some method involved in his random-looking choice. "I'm partial to this that way — that is, this way, I mean to say — because that that way would take me back where I already was," he explained simply. Sort of. Well, it could be complicated. He digressed. "I don't know my way around, obviously, but I think it'd be better to travel to another city just on the off chance this whole memory thing was a... localized event. You know? Maybe not everyone in the world is like this."

"It might be a good idea to find out how pervasive this was," conceded Rhiannon. Her head oscillated back and forth slowly once or twice, seemingly absently, yet her eyes, flickering about the vicinity, held a certain intensity to them. It abruptly faded, however, as her focus settled on a rather innocuous-looking lintel.

"For what it's worth," she added placidly, in a tone fit for discussing dinner plans. "I think was affected the same as you, and I woke up a fair distance from here..."

"Huh..."

Winn's hopes seem to deflate, but he stuck by his plan nonetheless.

"Well, it won't hurt to check just one more place, anyway, I guess... No one in this town knows anything, that much is for sure."

And so, they walked.

... And walked.

It really wasn't so bad. The road was quiet, peaceful in its dank chill. The village-like suburban area faded into hilly, patchwork farmland. Cows mooed quietly at their passing. The black waters of a river rolled quietly by at their right side. A watermill turned and groaned. Ink caps speckled the roadside. The clear blue sky continued to contrast the sharp chill, but Winn didn't seem to mind the cold.

Speaking of Winn, the kid had finally given the writing a rest, taking to reading instead. It was peculiar; he and his new traveling companion didn't seem pressured to talk to one another on their impromptu road trip. It was silent, yet neither appeared particularly bothered. Winn just thumbed through what looked like some highly technical manuals full of diagrams, surely related to his apparent profession.

The next town was close. Its tightly-packed buildings were visible as soon as they were over the first big hill. It looked nicer than the town behind them. Not so many smokestacks.

The yard of a farmhouse along the way chimed with music from plucking guitars and singers. It looked like a troupe of performers of some kind, judging by their funny clothes, and the fact they didn't really match the rural setting. Winn put away his reading long enough to enjoy the moment as he and Rhiannon passed by. He discovered then a quality in musicians he deemed most admirable: come disaster, uncertainty, or the end of the world itself, the art of song could not be suppressed. Someone was going to sing and play. He waved to them, and they back.

Their walk began to draw to a close as they neared the beginning of the cluster of buildings, the edge of the new town—another nameless blot in his memory that he was sure he should have known, but didn't.

Quaint, squarish structures, with windowboxes for flowers, wire fences for tiny little roadside lawns, striped awnings over brass-handled doors, all largely uniform, save for the varying heights of their shingled roofs. One building in particular stood out, though.

Actually, the building was moving.

Actually, the building looked like a very large, squat person.

Winn glanced at Rhiannon, then back to the head of the thing, which he saw bobbing over the crowns of the actual buildings. He slowly raised a single index finger and squinted, but said nothing.

WW (The White Whale) had not shown any signs of not stopping following the Phantom. In spite of TL’s statements that the bigger one trusted the ninja, WW continued his steady trailing of the skulking assassin as he went about his shady activities, but otherwise making no effort to stop him.

TL (Tiny and Loud), the smaller one, had spent the first part of the trip in unhappy silence. Still slumped in the cup of WW’s hands, she had shown very little interest in the Phantom’s proceedings, instead choosing to stare bleakly at the buildings they passed. Eventually, though, she stirred. She made a tremendous business of scrubbing at her eyes with her fists, and brushing the bristly shock of hair around on her head into what might have been a more pleasing configuration, and sniffing, and patting herself down, and straightening out her clothes. With this small ritual completed, she sighed, and propped herself up on the outside rim of the seat formed by WW’s hands. She began to show more interest in the world, blinking and squinting up at the sky, and watching the Phantom, and watching the people below.

The people below were obviously already suffering consternation from the after-effects of whatever peculiar magic had happened to the world, that last night, but it was obvious that no-one’s day was made much better by the sight of the tremendous monster moving through their streets. No-one seemed on the verge of panicking, but a wary silence graced the pair’s turning of every street corner, before people decided that they were no threat, and went again about their business.

Eventually, TL decided to speak.

“Hey,” she called to the Phantom, “hey you.”

“I guess you don’t remember anything looking like us before, huh,” she stated.

The whole procession of jumping from roof to roof while being followed by a gigantic monster was honestly the most amusing thing Phantom could recall, though given that amounted to the last few hours of his life it wasn't saying a whole lot. Still, it made things less boring, even if it pretty much ruined any chances of him sneaking around. Not even a stealthy assassin guy could work a miracle like that.

Phantom was crouching down, studying an alley below intently when he heard the tinier of the duo speak. He thought for a second before looking back over his shoulder and answering her. "Can't say that I do. I take it you two are in a significantly different situation than the rest of us. What do you recall about yourselves?"

“...I’unno,” she replied glibly, “waking up. Why?"

"You are - if I may be forgiven for pointing out the obvious - not from around here." He turned around fully to face them, standing calmly on the edge of the roof. "And you seem to have a certain instinct in your relationship with one another. Perhaps you have some small insight into why that is?"

This was Phantom-speak for how do you two even work seriously?

“Oh,” she said, “that. It’s because he’s my Sunmate."

Nothing really mystifies birds, it seemed. Not large, swiftly passing vehicles, or supernatural battles in the streets, or ninjas on rooftops, and their enormous white stalkers. The large, inky crow, in fact, really only saw the latter as a much needed opportunity to give his weary wings a break, and touched down impassively atop the giant yeti-beast's hand. His scarlet eyes darted briefly between it and the dark-clad figure, as if to say, "Don't mind me."




Rhiannon was indeed unperturbed by a lack of lively discourse throughout their journey, and was in fact, largely silent, herself, most of the way to the next village. There was a hint of consternation to her face every now and again, but it was one that possessed the smallest measure of effort behind it as possible. Despite his earlier close call, Cross had seen fit to fly ahead, and rendezvous with his mistress and her new perch later.

When they came upon their destination for the moment, the girl gave the mostly monotonous block an impassive glance, evidently deciding that nothing immediately present was really ringing any bells. But talking of Bells, Winnston's sudden preoccupation with anything (as opposed to hers with nothing) seemed a worthy distraction, and without any of the proper surprise, or fear, or wonder, looked upon the gargantuan thing with a mere blink or two.

"I'm having another deep-rooted subconscious inkling, Winn," she mused, quite plainly. "I think such things and their presence may be abnormal."

“Hey. hey!” TL jerked reflexively away from the bird as it landed, and began swatting at it.

“Shoo, scat—get off!”

“He’s not a statue, you dumb bird,” she added, with venom.

Winn just... nodded.

"Well, I think we're on the same, uh— same wavelength, there," he commented, lips pursed and both brows raised. His eyes never left the huge thing.

"He looks civilized enough," he thought to comment after a few more seconds. "Just... big."

He began to approach.

The waifish blonde drifted along after her more brazen/curious accompaniment, and neared the sizable creature just in time to hear its tiny figurehead bristling rather loudly over her momentarily estranged pet.

"Actually," called Rhiannon, her face upturned, and her gloves hands cupped delicately around her mouth. "He's quite intelligent, Cross. He's just attracted to power."

Lifting her hand imperiously, the crow immediately alighted, diving neatly down the length of the Sau, and settling obediently on the witch's arm.

"I do apologize for the imposition," she continued with small curtsey. "We of course meant no disrespect, Miss...?"

The imp flopped over the edge of the hand to stare down at the bird as it returned to its mistress’ shoulder. Her arms and head dangled over the street below, like a ragdoll’s, as she gazed balefully down at the other girl.

“What are you, stupid?” she demanded, “didn’t you notice everyone’s forgotten everything?”

There was a rush of air from further up the immense form of Le Mont Blanc; a sort of slow sigh. The girl in his hands looked momentarily abashed, but stoically refused to change her view on the intelligence of the witch below, choosing to wait for an answer in moody silence.

Winn immediately bristled at the little imp girl's rudeness. "Impudent!" he thought to himself, his eyes widening. Well, one of them. The other one was just kinda... stuck like that. He didn't have the presence of mind to think much of his own reaction in the moment, but he'd surely later wonder if it was strange that he immediately felt so darkly, self-justifiably compelled to say just what he did.

"What—you don't even remember your own name?" he replied with almost haughty-sounding disbelief, puffing and putting his fists on his hips. "Did you slip and hit your head or something?"

She looked at the boy in shock.

“Hey,” she said, “it’s not—not—!”

She stared down a few seconds more, then disappeared over the edge of the hands.

“Gehhhhh!” her voice could be heard, slightly distant and muffled, but clearly agitated, “Nyaar tho dzo? Nya tho gekie su dō tō! ... ... ... Auugh, fine.”

She re-appeared over the hands.

“We don’t know our names,” she said, sulkily, but with a voice measured in a peculiar, formal cadence, “we woke up this morning, not knowing who we were or w—or from where we came, and no-one here will tell us why. We think it is because no-one here can answer the same for themselves, it—”

She went on, less formally and more angry, “it’s—it’s like, like the whole place just decided to forget everything. It’s like everyone just decided to go insane all at once. It’s stupid."