Agents of the Multiverse

It wasn't quite night shift-- most of the Omphalos's diurnal residents were still awake, albeit either indulging in a late dinner or winding down for the day in various ways. That meant that relative to the day, the main building's lobby was fairly quiet. Krepta liked it that way. It was peaceful, compared to all the hustle and bustle of the daytime traffic. She had grown accustomed to the quiet spaces of the world over the last few years, and dipping her toes-- or claws, back into what amounted to urban life was proving to be a challenge.

She'd get there, she knew. Krepta had spent most of her younger years in cities after all. Her teenage-hood had been spent learning to fly in between skyscrapers. But for now, she was relieved to have drawn the 'short straw' on orientation duty. A good deal of the others preferred to use their nights for sleeping. Krepta didn't have much of a sleep schedule in comparison, and having to stay up a little later was no burden to her. She was up when she was up, and she slept when she was tired. When or where that occurred usually mattered very little. It had been that way for a very long time, and so her taking the first half of the evening shift worked out for everyone.

They really hadn't needed a raffle system. She would have volunteered for it, in fact.

Feeling much more relaxed than she had during her previous shift, Krepta sighed thoughtfully to herself and leaned back on her palms, tucking the side of her hip against the tiled, decorative ledge she was standing in front of. It made up one of the several planters that supplied much needed greenery to the cavernous space, and the soothing scent of damp soil and plant life wafted over her. A small garden light painted the underside of the leaves of the large fern that brushed up against the back of her shirt a pale, sulfur yellow.

A cloud passed over the moon outside, and for a moment the space was lit only by those scattered garden lights, and a few supplementary lights at the edges of the room. It was still enough to see by, but the AotM liked to keep night-time lighting low in the public areas for those nocturnal residents with more sensitive eyesight.

Krepta had to admit that the Omphalos's lobby was prettier during the day, at least. Only faint moonlight filtered in through the giant, stained glass window above the entrance, and the echoing of distant footsteps in the empty space reminded Krepta of a mall at night, or a school building, an in between place, only half sleeping as it dreamed of the impressions of life left behind.

"At least it's quiet," she murmured to herself. She wasn’t really sure how many newbies would come venturing down to ask questions at this time of night, nor visitors in through Sanctuary’s portal, but she was willing to wait. It was good to take a break or so every now and then, she supposed, even if it did make her maddeningly restless.

There was almost nothing for Connor here, yet he found no purpose nor ability to go to bed. He was one of the three Guildmasters - at least, now he was, if he wasn't the only Guildmaster left. In his mind, that didn't end with the Corruption claiming their alternate Earth. Apparently, more dimensions existed than just that of the Dream Realm. He wasn't anticipating that he'd be leaving behind his family and guild in his original one.

As he took languid steps along the Omphalos' lobby, he felt more alone than he actually was. He'd still had some exorcists, both senior and green, that escaped with him. Outside of them, everyone was a stranger here. Every face he could see, alien; even when he was familiar with the concept of being around non-humans. His hands were in the pockets of khaki pants, the wearing of casual clothes offering perhaps some semblance of normalcy. He carried himself as though he was browsing a grocery store, putting on a display of being relaxed and mildly interested in his surroundings.

Perhaps seeing another human-like being was marginally more interesting. Thus, when he managed to spy a brown-haired woman across his left at a ledge, he decided to approach her. Of course, she had a diamond-shaped patch on her forehead that might speak otherwise of her humanoid nature, but he found common ground in the sheer amount of scars they shared. They'd both seen much.

"Enjoying the evening air?" Connor took a meander over to the woman, never removing his hands from his pockets. "Or is your day not over yet?"

What had considerably caught his attention were these 'Agents of the Multiverse.' They had a reaction time to the Corruption of the world marked as '#0931R' that was simultaneously swift and just a bit too late. There was virtually nothing left there but monsters foreign to even the Dream Realm. And as expected, it all started at The Line Between.

Krepta glanced over at the taller newcomer. She looked him over with expert eyes-- the way he held himself, how he walked-- he seemed like someone who could handle themselves, and Krepta relaxed a fraction, glad to not have to anticipate needing to babysit tonight. It was her job to answer questions and offer guidance, at least while she was on duty in that way, but some of the new comers seemed utterly helpless to her eyes. It was almost distressing, considering how many of them would eventually wind up out in the field, but Krepta supposed that she had to also trust that the rest of the team would eventually find a way to whip them all into shape where necessary, or send them onto Sanctuary where they'd be safe.

Still, it was nice knowing that she could potentially relax a little with this one. Some of the newcomers cried. Krepta couldn't handle tears.

"On orientation duty," she answered, inclining her head a little in way of greetings. "Lucked out and got the quiet shift. You?"

Krepta didn't recognize the guy, which didn't mean much. The last few months she had spent as much time outside of the Omphalos as she possibly could. It was still all to too strange and overwhelming for her, and she was used to doing things on her own terms and in her own time. Only recently had the rest of the Guardians reeled her back in for base duty, a task that was already beginning to chafe not three days in, with a hefty scolding from their resident psychologist to boot.

Bah, what'd he know?

"Agent or visitor?" Krepta asked, stirring from her thoughts. "Sorry, I've been away..."

"I see."

There was a period of quiet. It was considerably brief, but it was there and every second of it made Connor uncomfortable. However, he would not squirm. He'd dealt with the depravity of ghosts for far too long to display discomfort openly anymore. It was up to him, Guildmaster Tang's successor, to keep level-headed. Now more than ever.

"I guess this is my quiet shift, too," he replied, rocking on his feet. He doesn't meet Krepta's eyes, gazing upwards into the distance. "I'm an exorcist. Much has happened during my team's last shift, five days ago."

Notably, he didn't use past-tense terminology. He wasn't one to quit that easily. He barely even seemed dejected by the mention of the fall of their world. Perhaps because of this, he finally met Krepta's eyes. There were two scars, appearing cut from claw, that left deep chasms across his right eyebrow. His face housed some smaller, less noticeable marks, though some could be picked up in the fading daylight and remaining lamplight; one across his strong nose; a couple on his sharp jawline; one across his left eyebrow looked ambiguous if it was either from a piercing of jewelry or violence.

And yet, his gaze is gentle. Not depressed, not regretful. Just. . . calm.

"You call it #0931R, I believe." There's a fondness in his voice, like he was learning the name of a relative's newborn child. "That's fascinating, knowing there's so many Earths out there. I wonder if some of them also have Dream Realms."

To the woman's second question, he smiled - a friendly gesture. Creases formed laugh lines along the sides of his mouth, displaying his age.

"I suppose that depends. You're on orientation duty, right? Let me know what I can do to help our Corrupted Earth, these other Earths, other universes. On the Omphalos or in Sanctuary."

Our Corrupted Earth. Krepta winced quietly. She supposed that answered one of her questions, at least, poor guy. He seemed to be taking the news remarkably well though. Maybe it was one of those coping mechanisms that Raz liked to go on about, or maybe he was just used to the whole apocalypse thing. He wouldn't have been the first one to come through whose world had been in rough shape even before falling to the Corruption.

Exorcist though-- that was interesting. Despite all of Krepta's travels and run-ins with fae, monsters, and general over all boogiemen, she actually hadn't encountered more than a scant handful of ghosts in her time. She wasn't sure if that comforted her or not. Krepta believed in them alright, seen or not, but maybe it would have been comforting to have had more definitive proof.

Maybe then she could believe that the loved ones she had lost were still out there somehow, in one form or another.

"I'm real sorry about your home," Krepta replied after a moment of heavy silence. "It never gets easier hearing--" She shook her head. None of that. This wasn't about her, and he had asked for information. That was the best, and only tool that Krepta was equipped to give him right now.

"What you can do depends on your skills,” she said. “One option is to sign up with us. The AotM… we do our best to make sure no one else loses their homes, but it’s dangerous work. As to your specific world... I– we don't have a cure yet, but we're looking, and we won't stop looking until we find something that can help. Meanwhile there are refugees. Most of them are people like you… folks who’ve lost their homes. They’re mostly up in Sanctuary right now, but... it's got its own problems. We can always use more people doing recon for more supplies for them. It can be hard to keep up, given the recent influx."

Krepta blew out a sigh. Nothing like saying it all out loud to force yourself to stare down the barrel of all of your ongoing problems. Still, one step at a time. It was all any of them could do.

At Krepta's condolences, Connor's lips thinned, almost like a tight-lipped smile. Not because it was a 'wrong' response, as he wasn't expecting a 'right' one. It was more so that it was a common response. He'd heard it on repeat for the first few days he'd arrived at Sanctuary. Now, he simply neglected to talk about it. He was almost of the mind to bid the rest of his team to do the same.

"We'll find a way through this," was the reply he conjured, expression more placid now. He still kept his posture casual, relaxed, no matter what emotions crept up. "It was a risk. Technically, it's always been one for us. The only difference is that it isn't one world swallowing the other. So, we know at least our Earth still exists. All we can do now is to find a way to adapt."

For a moment, he considered Krepta's words about becoming an agent. Agents, - plural - if his team were to follow. First of all, he had to put on an example for his team.

A hum rolled in his throat. He eyed Krepta, his next words less proud and more of an acknowledgment. He was confident, but he didn't let that cloud his vision.

"Danger isn't a new concept for my guild," he remarked. "But these are alien threats to us. To me. I'd be willing to take the time to learn about these and how to confront them. As for my team. . . I can't speak on their behalf."

For a passing moment, he glanced away.

"It's hit some of them harder than others, especially the more inexperienced exorcists. I want to give them time to process things, but at the same time, I want to keep them busy to help them cope. One of my guild members has already taken to hunting in the woods around Sanctuary." His hand raised to stroke his goatee. "Perhaps for all of us, staying productive is the best way to adapt."

Connor's eyes met Krepta's again, sharply curved brows wrinkling just slightly in curiosity.

"Thank you for your answers so far. If you would, tell me about the sign-up process, as well as the recon missions. Where are they headed?" Just then, he removed a hand from his pocket, palm upward rather than sideways. He wasn't sure if handshakes were something Krepta did. "I'm Guildmaster Connor Hunt, by the way. Use any part of that name you want when addressing me."

Krepta had never been very good with grief. All her grieving, she always did alone. When her parents had died, her uncles had done their best, bless ‘em, but they had been ill equipped for the situation, and frankly in shock themselves. Dev had lost a brother, and Sol and Viro had lost a close, lifelong friend. Not long after that Krepta had been framed, and she had gone on the run. The pens had followed that, and fates only knew how many losses in between, be it worlds left behind, indignities suffered, or monsters who hurt others in order to control her. There had been no time nor room for comfort, for her, or anyone else.

Even when she had escaped the island finally, there had been no Omphalos in those days, no agency. Krepta had gone from world to world, stumbling and confused, and doing her best to save who she could. Sometimes she failed. Sometimes she was left the sole survivor, the only one left to bury the dead. She was only one woman, after all-- not that Krepta had ever allowed herself the mercy of that excuse.

There wasn't exactly a model to draw upon when it came to handling grief in others. Krepta didn't quite know how to comfort in the face of such loss. But, she knew grief when she saw it, even, and perhaps particularly, disguised grief.

Keep your head down. Keep busy. That was what she had always told herself. Maybe it was Conner's philosophy too.

"All over the multiverse," she answered after a beat. "It's a tough job, but... there's some beauty to it too. You see things you'd never imagine, and I can speak from experience. That goes both ways, of course, good and bad, but… they tend to balance out, I think."

She reached out to take the hand, and Krepta’s own grip was warm and firm, and slightly callused. There was a thick scar running up the center of the palm where she had used to blood let in order to activate the Doors-- before the medical team had nearly chewed her head off over it. She was lucky she hadn't given herself nerve damage, they had said. She had since switched to fingers.

"The name's Krepta," she answered, trying to sound a bit more cheerful. "I wish it were under better circumstances, but it's nice to meet ya all the same. You and your lot can sign up at the front desk and they'll walk you through the process after a bit of paperwork. There's usually someone over there no matter what the time of day. Benefit of having so many different species about, I guess. Not everyone sleeps all at the same time."

The beauty in it. The balance of the good and the bad.

This was what Connor sought to protect between both their dimensions; in the Drealm Realm and the Waking Realm. Being a hunter married to a conservationist, he got to see the natural beauty of both. At the same time, there was something to be said about the cultures. Seeing what Dreamers branded as 'Intelligents' and how they interacted. Arguably, this diversity was on an even broader scale here than Connor had ever seen before. To him, it truly was eye-opening. To understand someone is to understand their problems, and thus, he could be a better hunter and exorcist. A better agent.

"I'll make suggestions to Gyeon first," he said, at the end of Krepta's replies. "He's our most senior exorcist that came with us. He specializes in the different Arts - or magic - of our world, so I think he'd be open-minded to learn about techniques here. After that, we can see who of our main team would be onboard. We might have some that would be more eager than others. . ."

He was mentally looking at Yanfeng.

"I was a hunter before I became an exorcist. Exorcists are selected to join the Guild based on the astronomical Arts and their ability to handle the Dark Arts, as well as the concept that they had either endured hardship or been 'scorned by spirituality' in some way. At least, that's what the Astrans would say. All of us have been trained in the Dark Arts and one other elemental Art, as well as received combat training. However, there is more to the Guild's duties than just combat."

His posture relaxed as his head inclined backwards.

"A never-ending balance, that. To maintain the peace between dimensions was our main goal. We weren't exclusively destroying ghosts or trying to rid everywhere of monsters and them. We were also mediators. We tackled the invasive and the malicious, but we put diplomacy first. Unless it was, you know, a non-sapient creature that couldn't be negotiated with. But I know that's a lot of talk." He faced Krepta directly, gaze stern. "I know you'd want to see some action. I'll get to that desk as soon as possible. But before I go, could I ask you what you do here as of right now? Aside from orientation duty."

...oh.

If Conner didn't know who she was, then Krepta wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to enlighten him on the part that she played with the AotM, or her potential connection to the Corruption itself, even if that connection was that she had been made to fight it. A part of Krepta still harbored some guilt that the AotM had even been necessary to begin with. Yes, it was an immense job that no sane person should be expected to undertake on their own, and the people who signed up deserved the chance to get to fight back but---

Well, help, as much as it was appreciated, still felt like failing her duties somehow.

"Oh um," Krepta answered awkwardly. She shifted her weight briefly from foot to foot. "I do little bit of everything, honestly." That part wasn't a lie at least. "Recon, acquisition, containment... I'm not much one for the science-y stuff, but I've got a mean right hook and I know how to survive. I let the smarter folks point me in the right direction, and then I kinda... just... do what I do. I've been at this for a while though, so sometimes I act in an advisory capacity, though there's a lot I don't know about still. And uh..." she tried to think of what else.

"Oh! Sanctuary. I help out a lot there. With the refugees and with finding supplies. Summer's a lot easier, but come winter things get tight. Especially this year with all the new arrivals. I'm hoping to get everything we need squared away well before the snows hit," she finished.

Krepta rubbed a bit at the back of her scalp with her fingers, feeling a little self conscious suddenly. "I don't really have an official title or anything though, if that's what your wondering. I just go where I'm needed. There have been a lot of younger sorts coming through lately. I signed up for dealing with that too. Uh, no one assigned to me there yet, though."

Krepta was a little relieved at that, honestly. She didn't regret signing up to be a chaperone-- it was what was needed, but part of her still worried that she wouldn't be a very good role model for the poor kids. They deserved someone who could make them feel safe after all they had been through, and she wasn't sure that was her. Still... she was better than not having anyone at all.

Connor figured that there would be young ones coming through the Rifts, including those that would either have superhuman powers or those that didn't have their own family, whether anymore or at all. Even with this expectation, his heart still sank. He himself probably had no qualification in dealing with such a thing, as the youngest exorcists he'd trained were those at eighteen. He'd never train any younger to be exorcists, especially as he had children of his own - though, to be fair, one was nineteen. Still, he'd never consider him to ever be an exorcist and explicitly warned him against it.

He supposed there was nothing one could do when someone had a specific will.

"Right," he said, bringing himself back. The period of silence that preceded his response wasn't long, being more like a beat passing. "I can't imagine it's easy with so many people coming at once."

With arms crossed, he recalled the uptick of exorcists being selected, sometimes after the Mages' Guild had issues. That in specific was its own oddness.

"Some of the rest of my team are also hunters, but all of us have specific knowledge in acquiring different supplies. Ore, plants and fungi, technology, the like. I know I will put in the effort to pull my weight there. Hopefully, it will aid in being enough to last through the winter."

More cordially, a hand raised to gesture openly. Whether it was towards Krepta or just a general display was unapparent. It wasn't like there was anyone else he could be speaking to.

"Thank you for the information, in any case. I'll see about what I can do. In the meantime, it was nice talking to you. Perhaps the next time ours paths cross, I can introduce you to some of my team."

"I'd like that," Krepta responded. In truth she was glad he hadn't nosed further into what she did at the Omphalos. Apparently the explanation she had given had been enough, and Krepta was fine with that. "And if there's anything I can do to help you or your team settle, let me know," she added firmly, and she meant that. She'd take care of every soul here if she could-- to the best of her limited abilities. She could be some place to start, at least.

"You know where to find me."

But the rest of tonight, Krepta hoped, would be fairly uneventful. She sat back against her leaning post again and watched Conner go. He seemed to have it together at least-- whatever his full situation was. His team was lucky for that. It was good to see. Maybe some folks would come out the other side of this not entirely shattered. Maybe.

And the rest of them, maybe Conner included, could focus on patching back together those who hadn't fared quite so well.

Fretting for another day, Krepta decided.

Her shift wasn't quite over, but Krepta figured she had done her duty enough for now, and with no one watching, there was also no one to stop her as she slipped out the lobby's front doors into the wild blue night. A distant thump of wings soon followed, and a large shape thrust itself up into the sky, dark against dark, quickly vanishing into the clouds that lingered across the moon.