[ Of all the things Serah expected out of death, this was certainly not one of them. She soaked up all the bits and pieces of information offered to her like a sponge, trying to make sense of it all. They had neglected to mention if this was truly the afterlife, or whether she had somehow been granted a second chance at living. The rush left her with no time to ask – the greeters scurried away as quickly as they had come. So she wondered in silence: Are the rest here the same as she is, simply a lost soul floating through an unfamiliar territory? Would-be heroes who fell too soon?
Her attention eventually drifts from those thoughts to the weapon in her hand. They said it would be sentient, as if that was a new fact. Mog, of course, had always been sentient; her right hand man moogle in every battle she and Noel had faced. It was strange, just how quiet he had been during the tour. Perhaps he didn't want the curators to see him for some reason. They were gone now, she thinks, so that shouldn't be a problem anymore. ]
Mog, I need your help here. Can you hear me? [ She speaks out loud toward the bow, as if it was a person. When there's no response, she shakes it. Passer-bys may very well think she's talking to herself or to them. ] Hellooo?
open!
Her attention eventually drifts from those thoughts to the weapon in her hand. They said it would be sentient, as if that was a new fact. Mog, of course, had always been sentient; her right hand
manmoogle in every battle she and Noel had faced. It was strange, just how quiet he had been during the tour. Perhaps he didn't want the curators to see him for some reason. They were gone now, she thinks, so that shouldn't be a problem anymore. ]Mog, I need your help here. Can you hear me? [ She speaks out loud toward the bow, as if it was a person. When there's no response, she shakes it. Passer-bys may very well think she's talking to herself or to them. ] Hellooo?