🌟🌌Dimension Hoppers [RP Remake]🌌🌟

Dead stands suddenly, flinging himself off the chair and towering over you all. In actuality he's not that tall compared to most of you, but the added height from the throne platform he's standing on and the sudden growing feeling of "You are going to die" certainly adds to his imagined height.

"Yes, yes but what were you attacked by, hmm? Don't- don't try and avoid the question or prance about it."

His voice is hollow, words echoing through a metal tube and filtered through dozens of sheets and layers, filled with a deep, bubbling tone of underlying anger.

"I'm not sure. Something called a Servitor, I believe."

Dead stands up straight, straighter than he was before. He, like he so often does, turns his head to the side, and begins to pace around like a caged dog, muttering to himself under his breath for only a few seconds, though it feels like much longer. Just as quick as he started pacing, he stops, and calmly descends down the seven stairs to the throne, to ground level.

"That Servitor, tracing the scent of the Traitor... You were there. Everyone else was dead. Hiding, hiding from us. You. There was only one, yes, yes, only one place where the Traitor could be."

His eyes light up in a crystal clear window into an unending ravenous madness, an insanity that spirals and spirals deep and deeper still. His features contort into rage, and he begins to shake in his fury. Dead casts an eye upon each of you, scanning the surroundings, yet his eyes still glaze over Ato.

The Servitors, standing so stock still they might as well have been statues, they suddenly move. They, in unison, take a singular, long step forward, and turn their swords so that the edge is facing the sky instead of the ground. All at once they turn their not-heads to look at the delivery group, a judgemental light shone upon you all.

"You. Where... the Traitor. You know, don't you. You... understand, see something I don't. You know where the Traitor is. Hidden from us. Not you. Cloaking herself, how, how?

...

It doesn't matter. Speak, you profligates. WHERE IS THE TRAITOR?! I SENSE THEIR PRESENCE, IN MY OWN SANCTUM, DO THEY INTEND TO DEFILE THIS TOO WITH THEIR BETRAYAL?"

Whatever semblance of sanity or calmness Dead had before this moment fades away in an instant. He's raving mad now. If he still had a mouth it would no doubt be contorted in a fierce snarl. The room fades away into nothingness, the exit too, leaving only an empty void, Dead, you all, and the Servitors.

Ato is- Sanguis, e puteis inanibus profluens. Catharticus. Clamor. Odium, erga eos, erga te, semper. Numquam cessabit. Standing, still, afraid. Curled up.

Clover looks around herself in some mix of confusion and horror as the room changes.

”I– we haven’t heard of any traitors– I don’t think I, I don’t think any of us, have, um, ever–“

She looks at the others to try and find out if they know something.

(Raidriar) *his head is down, genuinely a bit scared, and silent*

(I'm suspicious of Ato over there, but unless there's no reasonable doubt, I won't be throwing them under the bus... hell, it might even be me because of that weird dream I had, but that's a bit of a stretch, and even if there's no reasonable doubt, there's no way in HELL I'm throwing myself under the bus...)

*she'd contemplate who could reasonably be blamed as the "traitor", completely unaware of Radriar's insanely stupid plan*

After a second, there’s a sensation in your head, like the pain before a headache. It turns out that that was a premonition, as a splitting pain erupts like fire in your head, like something is trying to force itself into your mind, tearing its way through your brain in a mental way.

It doesn’t get better, your eyes are the next to suffer the pain. It feels like someone plucked your eyes out of their socket and deposited them into a spiked frying pan to boil. Ato is the only one really unaffected by the abrupt pain, though she’s currently scrambling to get as far away as she can from the area, and failing due to the room’s non-Euclidean nature.

Dead does not care about you all being in agonizing pain in the slightest, leaning back like he’s waiting for something to do their job.

"..."

*xano watches in... ammusment?*

*xano would accidently chuckle a bit out loud*
"..."

*she'd be on the floor, screaming to herself; used to some pain but nothing nearly this bad*

"GETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEADGETOUTOFMYHEAD"

"is this meant to hurt..? babies"

*xano laughs at Cyntalia's pain*

"SHUTUPLABRATSHUTUPLABRATSHUTUPLABRATSHUTUPLABRATSHUTUPLABRATSHUTUPLABRATSHUTUPLABRATSHUTUPLABRATSHUTUPLABRATSHUTUPLABRATSHUTUPLABRAT"

*she'd hold Xano by the neck at knifepoint, fighting through the pain out of spite; clearly in an even worse state of mind than normal*