We are, all of us, growing volcanoes that approach the hour of their eruption; but how near or distant that is, nobody knows — not even God.

[ A pause, after reciting an old quote from a certain philosopher Wilhelm may or may not have an attachment to. There's some soft music playing in the background, but the volume, for once, is turned down to where it's barely audible, just loud enough for a listener to know that it's there. ]

This Tower has endured much. The revelations of our true nature here, the Promethean fall of Dax, and the fate of our worlds...

[ Yes - Wilhelm admits he was wrong about the worlds. It appears the Administrators mislead him. Well played, well played. ]

Though there is but one detail that still eludes me. Something I believed inconsequential to the grand scheme, until now.

What exists outside of the Tower?

[ Yes; there is a reason he is asking this. He leans back into his seat, in his small corner of the library he claimed as his own long ago. Those that regularly spoke with him knew where to find him. ]

[ You can see the young girl fidgeting as she tries to figure out what to with this thing on the screen. When she doesn't see any reaction, she almost peers a little too closely before ducking back.

Oh, wow, what is this thing? It looks kind of like a computer, not that she has access to one back home on a regular basis. ]

H-hello? Is anyone there? My name is Madoka Kaname and I've just arrived at the "Tower", is it? And... ah... I don't really know what's going on. Is it true that our worlds have been destroyed so we were saved?

I'm really glad that I got to live, but... [ She's thinking off to her parents and friends now. ]

If anyone knows anything about Mami Tomoe, Sayaka Miki, Hitomi Shizuki, and Homura Akemi, please talk to me immediately...! I'd really like to know where they are if possible? Oh, and... what are the chances of someone being brought here later?

Promethius defied the Gods by granting a boon to humanity, and was condemned to death for his compassion.

[ A pause. He's been scarce lately. But with how deadpan his voice is, one thing that always gives him away is the soft music playing in the background. Opera. Specifically, Richard Wagner. And today's choice is oddly appropriate. ]

It appears to be a running theme all throughout history: No good deed going unpunished. No hero that, in time, is denied martyrdom. I often wonder why this one lesson is routinely ignored. But, now, perhaps, I see why. Human nature requires inspiration before it begins to to act upon its desires.

Perhaps now this performance will enter its final act.

Does anyone have any good ideas on what to do to keep your mind off of things going on and people you care about disappearing?

Just a bit curious, I guess. I'm looking for something to pass the time away.

[ seeing as how its body isn't actually made for speech, the voice in this post is telepathic projection and can easily be recognised as such. Bitties will just receive the post in their heads thanks to Kyuubey's agreement with the bitty brigade to provide eternal hivemind reception.

YOU'RE WELCOME. ]

Greetings! My name is Kyuubey. I've been here for some time now, but I need advice from you all... Well, primarily from the humans amongst you. Namely, what should my purpose be in this universe, when my job was to save mine? If I am the result of a failed line of causality, and this a place that collects the detritus from inadequate realities, what is the purpose of our continued existence? We cannot cease to exist from our own desire, which would imply that we are meant to be, but can anyone claim to have contributed something to this reality? Does anyone believe they have a future, or any potential whatsoever, as long as they exist in this tower?

I'm asking only because as unbalanced, emotional species, you are much more likely to produce a rationale for your existence! The logical answer - that we have no future and no present - doesn't really work, does it? We're gonna keep going anyway... I thought I'd find out what you thought, and see if there was something I can do.

Well, it doesn't matter much. Since I have as little meaning here as you guys, let's all be friends!

[ There's no chess motif in this video. No fancy metaphors, no elaborate symbolism. Just Wilhelm staring into the Compass, as if in a trance. It seems almost as if the terminal nearest to his makeshift office turned on without him realizing it, until he begins speaking. ]

It's almost time.

[ How long was it for him? Years? Centuries? A millennium? It doesn't matter. To someone who is possibly billions of years old and existed in previous cycles of his own universe, it might as well have been a week. Being that old, and being a cosmic entity, gives him a very odd perception of time compared to humans. He's completely indifferent to this event, even though it did affect on him. ]

I know you can see what I refer to, Yeshua. And I know that you can feel it as well.

[ That affect, of course... was him sensing Animus beginning to awaken. Though whether it actually was, or if it was just a sensation he's feeling due to the event itself, remains to be seen. ]

I was unaware that is possible in this world, but it was a hypothesis I was willing to test. Perhaps now, Tohko, Shion, Allen, and 'Wretched Egg,' your question can be answered.

[ He pauses slightly when he says 'Wretched Egg.' He's still unsure why she insists on being called that, but c'est la vie. ]

[ To some people, it may seem like Mami was not affected by the Tower's latest shenanigans, but she certainly was. She believes that ten years have passed for her, even if she doesn't look it. She chalks it up to being dead and therefor, being unable to age. Since, you know, the dead can only rot.

Sadly, that's not the case. ]

Good evening. My name is Mami Tomoe for those who don't know. [ She's mostly referring to the new comers because she has made a few network posts in the last ten years, right? ] If you need my assistance, I'll be glad to help you out. I can't say you'll enjoy your stay here sadly.

... I would like to speak to those who come from Mitakihara, or anyone who knows of our situation. [ Situation? If you're thinking Puella Magi stuff then ding! You're right! ]

I believe that's it, other than the usual "how's everyone been holding up in the Tower" question I usually ask. Stay safe everyone.

[It had taken awhile, but Tohko had finally managed to get everything made and had fond out just how to get the video settings to work. She'll be standing there, smiling, with a table behind her and a pile of presents on it..as well as a basket of fruit. A small mailbox sat on the corner of the table, separate from everything else.]

Good morning! Would the following people please come to the third floor: Rei, Romeo, Saber, Wilhelm, Tetra, France, Prussia, Lancer, 'Azazello'-aka The Brown Testament, and 'Behemoth'-aka The other Testament.

It may be a little late, but I still want to hand you guys Christmas presents, so please do show up!

[Filtered to Rei Ayanami and Rise Kujikawa]

Oh..and would Rei and Rise please meet me here as well, together? There's something I want to ask the both of you.

[KOS-MOS appears on the terminals. Covered in blood and guts.]

Shion, I need to be cleaned.

The villain enters stage left.

[ Wilhelm comments quietly, from what appears to be the third floor library. In front of him is his chessboard from before, but this time, there are only five pieces on the black side; two close together, the other three spread out over the far end of the board. The black pieces contain one of every special piece: a knight, a rook, a queen, a bishop, and the king. On the white side are all pawns, with one king. The ever-rotating Compass was perfectly visible behind him, however, one of its arms was rotating far more wildly than the other. In the background, coming from an off-screen phonograph, was a fairly appropriate musical piece, as Wilhelm carefully moved the black rook behind several of the white pawns, rendering them useless. The white king was now in check, but with the mess of pawns, had very few effective places to move. ]

The heroes are confused. Disoriented, impatient, and irrational. It is only to be expected, given the setting.

[ He doesn't move the white king. Instead, he turns to one of the other white pawns, which had managed to be only a few moves away from the far end of the board, where it could be exchanged for a superior piece. He doesn't move it; rather, he simply stares at it. ]

I wonder who will step up this time?

[ And with that, the feed ends. ]

[ The video shows Homura at a library terminal. Her ring is visibly on her finger as she runs her hands through her hair, purposefully displaying it in hopes of attracting the attention of fellow Puella Magi. Then she sets her hand down again. ]

My name is Homura A-- [ She stops, remembering Moemura is here. She doesn't want to shock her with that information. ] --- Homura... I would like to speak to anyone who may be experienced with or presently in possession of firearms. I am in need of assistance regarding the subject matter. I am also curious to know if anyone may assist me in obtaining certain chemicals and 'parts' that I need for 'something'. I thank you for your cooperation.

[ She bows her head and shifts her gaze to a small object she has set by the terminal. Her last remaining Grief Seed. ]

I am aware that someone here may have the ability to "purify" soiled objects. If you are such a person and at all willing, I would like to request a face to face conversation with you regarding a matter of concern for myself and a select few others. [ On the note of those others...

Homura tries not to let her expression falter, but it's difficult. She's very worried as she goes on, though successfully masks her concern. ]

Madoka-san, Sayaka-san, Kyoko-san. If you hear this, please respond. And if you would be so kind, allow me to see your soul gem. A lot has happened and we must keep them clean in order to be effective in this environment.

And so, people leave us. Their role has ended on the stage, as it were.

[ He's back in his little corner of the library... the Compass is still there, he finally has his glass of wine back, and there's a new book open on his desk. ]

I am curious. What does one have to do to be sent back to our own worlds? How is that decision reached by our... caretakers here?

You have to send me back, please- I can fix this, maybe they're not all dead, maybe I haven't destroyed everyone yet, but if I'm here then I can't do anything!

Please.

[She flutters her wings uncertainly. It looks like she's been crying.]

Greetings, everyone. I am Sertoria Cani and I would like to follow up with April's post on the network.

If there is anyone else who would like to join in on a training session I will be holding, then I will hold them on the floors available. Additionally, if you would like to hold your own training sessions following that event, then you are able to hold your own.

I look forward to seeing others there.

[ During the chaos, Wilhelm hadn't been seen at all, until almost a full hour into the monster flood. Despite the screams, violent shaking of the tower, and the destroyed barrier, Wilhelm seems abnormally calm, staring into his compass. For a while, the video continues like this, until Wilhelm takes a sip of his wine, and calmly moves his hand towards a chess piece, only slightly moving it across the board. ]

It begins.

[ He comments quietly. The room he's in appears to be one of the lower levels of the Tower, clear of monsters, at least for now. There's books, of course - Floor Three? - but Wilhelm seems to have found a rather deserted corner of the room without a whole lot in it, to set up his temporary compass-staring desk. ]

( Directly to T!Allen )

*Enoch had finally been reminded of the network earlier in the day, and what had happened reminded him of something he wanted to get out there.

So here he is on the video feed, looking mildly distressed, but for the most part composed.*

The theory about the phantoms here...I don't believe it's true. They have a vaguely human shape, but I never saw any resemblance to...to the person its voice belonged to. As well, I was with someone else when we were attacked earlier, and we each heard different voices from the same phantom.

It must be an illusion.

[ Guess who has already settled well into his apartment? Wilhelm has set himself up into a nice little corner, with a desk, a small phonograph playing some rather old music, and a strange, golden disc, complete with two rotating circles similar to a sextant, and a green, translucent cube made of energy. ]

What a fascinating world this is.

[ Wilhelm muses, though his face isn't quite in the camera; just the left half of his body, and the bottom part of his chin visible as he rests it in his palm. One of the circles of the Compass is rotating madly, while the other is only slowly turning. ]

The collective unconscious has become difficult to read. I find it difficult to believe that my world was destroyed, but the collective unconscious has never been this uncooperative before.

[ Despite the fact that he's been ripped out of his own world and into one entirely unfamiliar to him, he seems... calm. Perhaps even content. The truth is, he's feeling absolutely devastated right now, due to him knowing that somehow, he might have failed at his mission. Only one person here will be able to tell, though; and it's the only person here mentally connected to him that can tell his true emotions beneath the pokerface. ]

Might I ask what became of my own world? Or how it met its fate?