[A few choices here: come closer and linger near the surface where the aberrant mist choked out his innate magic capabilities and threaten both of his contracts, old and new. Sit where Mordred had left him as the soldiers he was with started to move on. Go with them. Or find someplace quiet and off the beaten path to curl up into and catch his breath without the fear that someone was going to try and figure out what was wrong with him. Settling in with that final option, he picked his body up and headed off down a winding path.
He had seen these tunnels in the Metaverse, which twisted more and happened to be laid out to go on for what seemed forever, maybe into even the earth's core if he had it into him to look, but even in there, the fog had crept its way in, making the shadows stronger and more violent than he had ever seen before. He had a general layout of sorts to work with out here in the real world, so when he heads off, a hand up against the muddy wall to guide him, he feels like he's going to collapse at any given moment.
There was a time once, where he summoned his persona without enough magic to maintain it or conjure the powers that sprung forth from his pact, and he had been left in a dulled state of mind until he could get out and get some rest. It was just like this now, as he groans to himself, every inch of his body feeling lame and useless, just to try and keep up with the needs of his Servant. And as Ryuji slams against the corner of a tunnel wall, he lets his body hit dirt too easily, his head pounding like something had been screaming into it ever since he lost an absurdly large amount of his mana all in one shot.
It's honestly the first time that Ryuji had been alone since he came to Gallipoli. Before this, he had endeavored to keep himself around people, to make himself keep going, because if he didn't, he's not sure he would've been able to get himself back up again. So if it was just... talking to recruits, helping the wounded, bearing stretchers, offering comradeship or whatever was needed, it was worth it not to think about everything else. About Akira's disappearance, Hei's shell shock, the worry that Noctis was completely on the other side of the trenches at this point. He looks down next to him, seeing 3 long trenches' knives, picks one up by the handle and closes his eyes for a few winks.
And it's an hour before he realizes there's movement, cognition coming back to him like he had just stepped out of the 'Verse, for him to see something that he... didn't quite comprehend at all. Ryuji panics for a moment, checks the BCE to make sure that he didn't fall asleep in the under dimension, because that? That was something that he was sure could only ever take place there, as shadows morphed and shaped into horrible things, different things---
Phillip?
And like this were a dream gone horribly wrong, there's a naked soldier in eyesight of him just a few meters away, where there was was this changing matter of grotesqueness that didn't seem comfortable in its shape in any of the amorphous form it had started to reform into. Especially weird now, because he never thought Phillip looked that comfortable in his own skin to begin with when he had met him the first time. Well, that explains it.
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He had seen these tunnels in the Metaverse, which twisted more and happened to be laid out to go on for what seemed forever, maybe into even the earth's core if he had it into him to look, but even in there, the fog had crept its way in, making the shadows stronger and more violent than he had ever seen before. He had a general layout of sorts to work with out here in the real world, so when he heads off, a hand up against the muddy wall to guide him, he feels like he's going to collapse at any given moment.
There was a time once, where he summoned his persona without enough magic to maintain it or conjure the powers that sprung forth from his pact, and he had been left in a dulled state of mind until he could get out and get some rest. It was just like this now, as he groans to himself, every inch of his body feeling lame and useless, just to try and keep up with the needs of his Servant. And as Ryuji slams against the corner of a tunnel wall, he lets his body hit dirt too easily, his head pounding like something had been screaming into it ever since he lost an absurdly large amount of his mana all in one shot.
It's honestly the first time that Ryuji had been alone since he came to Gallipoli. Before this, he had endeavored to keep himself around people, to make himself keep going, because if he didn't, he's not sure he would've been able to get himself back up again. So if it was just... talking to recruits, helping the wounded, bearing stretchers, offering comradeship or whatever was needed, it was worth it not to think about everything else. About Akira's disappearance, Hei's shell shock, the worry that Noctis was completely on the other side of the trenches at this point. He looks down next to him, seeing 3 long trenches' knives, picks one up by the handle and closes his eyes for a few winks.
And it's an hour before he realizes there's movement, cognition coming back to him like he had just stepped out of the 'Verse, for him to see something that he... didn't quite comprehend at all. Ryuji panics for a moment, checks the BCE to make sure that he didn't fall asleep in the under dimension, because that? That was something that he was sure could only ever take place there, as shadows morphed and shaped into horrible things, different things---
Phillip?
And like this were a dream gone horribly wrong, there's a naked soldier in eyesight of him just a few meters away, where there was was this changing matter of grotesqueness that didn't seem comfortable in its shape in any of the amorphous form it had started to reform into. Especially weird now, because he never thought Phillip looked that comfortable in his own skin to begin with when he had met him the first time. Well, that explains it.
Holy shit.]
...Holy shit you're a mole person.