This shift of existence gave Ion reason to be thoughtful, gave him time to himself. Was this a realm for ghosts? He doubted Replicas would end up in the same place as real humans, if they ended up anywhere at all. He sat very near to the bottomless pit at the heart of the city, wondering just why he wasn't still inside it, suspended as nothing. It was...a hauntingly familiar feeling that made his stomach churn, but Ion chose to entertain it anyway. Perhaps focusing on the feeling would give him a revelation, or at the very least remind him of something important.
A few had stopped by and asked him if he was okay, reminding him the area wasn't safe, suggesting he leave--but Ion politely shrugged them all off. He was just curious, he'd tell them, and eventually they left him to his devices. Perhaps more than a few hours passed. He sat at times, then got back to his feet only to sit again. He's not sure how often this was done, only that he's on his feet again.
Ion sways a little at the edge, clearly in some sort of trance. It's only when he catches himself nearly falling in that the boy clutches his staff to chest, taking brisk steps backward away from the pit. The trance is broken, and he's both alarmed and frustrated that nothing came of the ordeal. What time was it? His stomach growls loudly even through the perpetuate nausea, and he's reminded that he needs to pick up some way to earn money.
And, Ion noted somberly, there was no overarching presence of Yulia here to comfort him. He was truly on his own.
He turns on his heel with the intention of returning to the house he'd been afforded, but is caught in his tracks. Another ghost--surely his mind was playing tricks on him? Ion blinks several times, as if that would clear his vision of a mirage. But they were not in Chesedonia and he was only mildly hungry, so there was nothing he could blame.
The Tempest. One of Six, perhaps more. He didn't know for sure, as most of his earliest days felt much like a fever dream. Ion freezes at first, afraid any sudden movement would cause Sync to disappear or to dart off like a frightened animal. The feeling that settles between them is tense and unreal. Finally Ion steps forward, determined to dispel the ghost if he really was a figment of his imagination. When Sync doesn't immediately disappear after a few steps, Ion hesitates again. He swallows hard, lips pursing into a thin line.
