[The feed turns on to Norman sitting inside of Hel's Welcome Hall's lounge  with his long red scarf wrapped around his neck and a destroyed book on his lap. He's got a slightly nervous smile on, and his hands rub together in a worried manner before strumming along the book.]

Soooooo....who wants to talk about the afterlife?

[Yup, Norman's doing this. That's right, Asgard. There's a 11 year old who wants to talk about death. Although that wasn't the best way to start off this video, and he has to take a deep breath before continuing.]

I'm not actually talking about religious views, but what do you think happens when you die? Uh, I guess religious stuff works too if you really want to talk about that. I've heard a few things about how death works in different worlds, so I thought it would be interesting to hear from more people.

Also, I thought it would be good to talk about it since a lot of people seem to want to help get Freyr back. [Just going to add some not-bizarre reasoning to this.]

So yeah, if you want to say anything, go ahead. If you want to talk about it privately, you can put up a filter. [A pause.] And...if your world has ghosts or you believe in ghosts, that would be great to hear about too.

[Wrathia Bellarmina, queen of hundreds of galaxies, ruler of an empire, warrior and curse maker, generally awesome person, is finding that all her plans have gone awry yet again. It's not a pleasant discovery. She is getting really tired of all these goddamn wrenches in her goddamn plans. Living body? Great. Lack of anything else? Less than great.

Things would be on fire, if she could still generate the heat for that. Another fucking problem that's going to need solving.]

Putting aside the freaking idiocy of a plan like this- your plans, not mine- I'm willing to concede the point that we could be useful to each other. You send me back, in this body, put together the correct fucking way so that it works properly, and in exchange I'll give you whatever it is you need most. You want these guys dead? I can make you a curse that will wipe them out with one taste. Problem solved, and I can get on with my unfinished fucking business that is substantially more important than this pile of crap. This goes for anyone who thinks they can hold up their end of the bargain, not just the so-called gods.

[And she smiles, with a nasty display of very long, very sharp, very pointed teeth.]

So, how about it? Do we have a deal?

All through your existence, there are many limits you are faced with. When you are a soul who cares for the shape of the things you like, that’s natural to happen. You feel like you need those things; you want those truths and limits and shapes and what you have in this world is very important, for they bring you comfort. You will not allow others to threaten those things. Self-preservation and individuality.

But when you do not care for your shape, when you do not care if you are alive or dead, and you can forget your truths that limit you and the world of shapes you live in, for you need nothing from this world, you become limitless. And so you can love unconditionally. I love you unconditionally, from the depths of my heart. [ so, when he told some of you that he loved you? Guess what. He means it. And it's unconditional love. He loves every single one of you, no matter how much you refuse it ]

[ a pause while he is trying to explain this the best way he can. Mostly, what he just said was an introduction. The actual “what the fuck, Kaworu?” begins now: ]

I do not understand the first. I never thought I would want to. To understand what individuality of a being is or to even seeing you all as individuals. I am trying to, though. And I know this is an individual desire; while difficult for me to understand it, I know I am able to fee it, at some level. [ another pause. To admit this is rather complicated, though most of you wouldn’t understand why. ]

I wish to learn individuality. I don’t think I could ever see myself individually, but I wish to at least see you and love you individually as well.


How, though? How can you see individually?

[ another pause ] How come it’s so important?

[ Regina is pretty quiet when she first makes her broadcast. Her high-pitched voice is hoarser than usual, and in her hands she clutches some crumpled papers. ]

She was gonna make me a dress...

[ A pathetic sniffle. Aside from being upset, Regina also seems to have caught a cold due to the terrible weather. She presents the sketches to the camera for all to see: they show the rough design for a flashy circus costume. ]

These belonged to Sora Naegino! She left them to me because she's gone home. Lots of people are leaving or confused or sad right now, and that's no good. Don't you agree with me? Huh? [ She giggles, although it's a more melancholy, restrained giggle than normal. ]

Though there's a bunch of new guys coming in, so! Hi everyone! [ She smiles sweetly, but then breaks out into a coughing fit. Thankfully, she recovers like a pro. ] Oops, I don't want to make you get sick already! If you need help or a new friend though, just call me.

[ She dials down her cloying cutesyness for the next part. ] I hope Miss Freya is okay. You know, I always liked her. But does this mean that we're going to have to go fight again? I knew we would eventually, but I didn't think it'd be so soon...

[ This is interrupted by the most adorable/ridiculous/adoradiculous sneeze ever: ]

Pah...pah-CHOOey! [ And the feed is turned off. ]

[Normally when a person connects to Asgard's network, they greet villagers with a view of their face. However, this particular new Traveller is busy showing the city…snow. In particular, the fresh snow and frost that graced the city just two days prior to his arrival. Lots of snow, because this particular new Traveller just tried to fly and promptly fell into the snow instead. There's a frustrated sound from Jack Frost as he stands up, bracelet turning to face the snow again. Good thing nobody saw that. He's not really thinking about whether anyone can hear or see him though. The whole "being seen and believed in" thing? Still sort of hit and miss with this guy, and he's working under the assumption that most people still can't. However he's very much visible to anyone looking. They'll see a white-haired boy covered in snow and walking through the city like it's no big deal. Oh yeah, and without shoes. He's still not showing his face to the bracelet for the network to see, but he's soon speaking up to talk his way through the situation.]

Uh huh. So the fate of all existence rests within my hands. Thaaat sounds kind of familiar. [Speaking of hands, one of his hands soon appears as he bends down while walking, scooping up some snow to form a snowball.]

What I want to know is who beat me to it. [That snowball starts getting tossed up and down.] Because this? This isn't my work. [The snowball stops getting tossed and he brings it up, presumably, to his mouth to try and work some magic on it. No such luck though. He immediately stops in his path, giving the snowball a curious look.

Okay, well, how about we make it snow? …no luck? What about fros--okay, no luck there either.]

You gotta be kidding me. I mean I get it, I have a new power. [In fact, he's going to test the strength of his new power, using his mind to create snowballs without his hand and allow them to float and hover around him.] …which is kind of cool, I guess. I get that supposedly old powers won't work, but how am I supposed to be a Guardian if I can't even make the snow come?

[Aw well…even if he can't make new snow, there's no sense wasting the snowball that's in his hand. So what's Jack going to do? He's going to take a look around…and that snowball's suddenly getting launched…who knows where. If another traveller's nearby, it might just hit them. Totally on accident. Really. Oh come on, he's still working under the assumption that most people can't see him. Someone missed the memo that when they say everything's been stripped, they mean everything. So assuming that there's no harm done here, he'll just start to walk off with his telekinetically-created snowballs drifting behind him like baby ducks following their mother.]