{ @sameframe }
“Are you lost, dear?”
There were many things about the Pious Pools that were just a little bit odd— the strange floating lights at night, the old caves that sang when the wind blew through them, the great pools themselves— but perhaps nothing in the area was as odd as the little temple perched atop the cliff and the quiet little priest who looked after it.
Rung blinks up at the enormous purple frame with a bland sort of bemused expectation, as if new and unusual mecha finding themselves on his doorstep with little explanation happened all the time.
…Which it did, admittedly. Nightbeat had called the Temple a nexus point, where the walls between dimensions were thin. Rung had worriedly tried to shore things up a little bit, but it was very hard to try and sew patches over theoretical quantum complications.
“Come in, then, come on. During the hotter quartex it pours in the afternoons like clockwork. Having to dry yourself out is no fun.”