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    Summary

    Venti blinks.

    He's supposed to be dead.

    Vaguely, he is aware of someone calling his name. Outside, a storm has snapped into existence, the normally gentle winds turbulent with his turmoil.

    He's supposed to be dead.

    But instead, he's in the long destroyed cathedral, and that's Barbara by his side, fussing and fretting, and Jean hovering over him, face contorted with alarm and concern, a hand outstretched, and the Traveller--

    The Traveller.

    Venti flinches, stumbling back, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to get away, and the Holy Lyre slips from his trembling hands, clattering to the ground.

    The Holy Lyre…?

    Ah.

    This is…

    Language:
    English
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    Chapters:
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