>>5832818“I do not understand.” Triumph Requiem replies, your Stand's almost-robotic voice sounding ever so slightly confused by your response. “Your sleep has been uninterrupted, is your sleep no longer functioning properly? I was under the impression that sleep was what allowed your body to reset and prepare itself for another day.”
“Yeah, I'm fine physically. It's doing that just fine.” you reply, trying to pin down how you feel. “But this tiredness isn't physical, but I guess mentally?”
“Or perhaps emotionally?” Triumph Requiem asks, you blinking in shock at your Stand's insight. “You put on a brave face every single day, hiding your emotions and worries from those around you. Even those you care for. Or, maybe, especially so?”
“Especially so...?” you ask no one in particular, lost in thought. Your Stand knows you well enough to know that you're thinking deeply, staying silent as you finish your fire bath. Stabbing the sword into the fire pit, leaving it there you go to your drawers, drawing out another training uniform to put on before laying down to bed. But as you pull the skintight suit on, you feel a panicked mind reaching out to your own.
“Caulifla! We, I need your help!” the Jiralhanae leader Tiveus Relezeus <span class="mu-i">thinks</span> to you suddenly. “Please, it's urgent!”
“On my way.” you reply immediately, then sigh out and raise your right hand to your forehead. With a second's thought you lock onto the Jiralhanae's powerlevel, teleporting directly to him with Instant Transmission. One moment you're in your room, the next find yourself on the edge of the Jiralhanae city, at the site of an ongoing battle. Dozens of the bruisers are downed, along with hundreds of the smaller, more frog-like bodies of the Hydae while the rest flee, pursued by the Jiralhanae and their giant wheeled attack craft. “What the hell?”
“They came out of nowhere. Before we even knew what was happening these little bastards came out of the forest, throwing lightning and fire at us.” the Jiralhanae elder says, you seeing him kneeling over a body. One you immediately recognize.
“Oh no, Trosyis!” you exclaim, dropping to your knees by the elder's youngest son. Immediately you feel the pinprick of pain as your Stand plucks one of its feathers, prepared to help you heal the boy. But as you reach a hand to his neck, another to his wrist to try and feel for a heartbeat, you feel nothing. “Hurry, before it's too late!”
“Here.” your Stand replies, pressing the feather to the boy's chest. You were ready to see the feather burst into flames along with the boy, the fires healing his injuries and any illness to return him to full health. But as the three of you watch, the feather simply sits on his chest. Which can only mean one thing, your Stand vocalizing it. “We were too late.”
