The remaining pieces of memory followed immediately after each other, their pages scattered across another three levels: Another distorted layout of a town—spread farther apart where she'd had to trapeze over webs and fight spiders to cross the gaps between buildings; floating, luminescent treetops covered in ice and snow; and a complete dreamscape of stars where she lunged from one platform to the next over a pit of darkness. They were easier to read together. These were much shorter than the first three she'd found; each lasted only a few minutes at most, but together contained shocking, critical knowledge.

The Dweller she'd been following had gone with the smaller group. Creeping around fallen stone and pillars of ice, the five ghosts scouted out any potential signs of danger. The noise from before, however, had stopped. For a short while, they wandered aimlessly—spread out no farther from where they could spot one another as they snuck through the destroyed town.

Hat Kid wondered if maybe some animal had caused the noise, but then she remembered that, even if any wildlife had survived Vanessa's storm, the miasma clinging to the forest likely kept them away. Even in present-day Subcon, few species populated it. The bats and bugs that she'd gotten used to seeing weren't around either, not yet, no doubt staved off by the cold. The many sounds of nature were lost to the low howl of a freezing wind.

That was why it was so easy to isolate anything that disturbed it. After a few more moments of fruitless wandering in silence, they heard an odd, faint noise coming from a nearby building. The group rounded it at a distance, taking cover behind a large tree and surrounding piles of stone. A large section of wall had collapsed from the building, and from there they were able to peer through its broken frame in secret.

Inside, there was a figure of a man with his back practically turned to them. He was largely hidden by the shadows, so it was hard to make out much detail beyond his slim form and the faint, blue glow that appeared to radiate from him. Something metallic reflected back at them; however, it wasn't until the pale moonlight pierced through the shroud a little bit more that they realized that they sounds they heard came from the shuffle of books in his hands and rustle of chains at his wrists.

Even though he still didn't fully face them, it was undeniably Moonjumper. He still wore the prince's clothes, filthy and ragged from his imprisonment. The books he carried weren't in any better shape, edges damaged by the harsh elements. He tried to clean them off a bit with little success. They were drenched from where the ice and snow had begun to melt, their covers distorted and spines fallen away from the text. Not only that, but he seemed to struggle with holding them: They shook in his grasp, as if attempting to sink through his fingers—as if his materialized form wasn't strong enough to fully interact with the physical world yet.

It took a minute longer for the Dwellers to figure out the other ghost's identity for themselves, when he finally did turn his head just enough that half of the crescent-shaped mask and the red lines detailing it could be seen from their position. Of course they recognized it: Hat Kid wouldn't have doubted it if they knew each other's masks before their real faces, and both royals in Subcon were well-known and well-loved by their subjects. They whispered among themselves, initially with shock, then with hope.

It was one of the maskless Dwellers that first crept out of hiding and timidly called out to him in quiet disbelief, "Your Highness…?"

Moonjumper visibly recoiled at the voice, losing his concentration and allowing the books to fall through his hold as he spun around to face them. Someone gasped in relieved joy, seeing the full of his mask turned their way. For the Dwellers, the tides of fate had finally moved in their favor. The 'prince' had at last returned; sharing their demise, yes, but manifesting back into the world much stronger than themselves. He would lead them! Somehow, he would set things right!

They weren't counting on him to run, fading through the other side of the building and disappearing down ruin's winding paths. They froze as their shock momentarily returned, but soon chased after him, now shouting his name. They didn't care if Snatcher or any spirits found them anymore: They just wanted the prince to come back.

The young alien followed after them as fast as her legs could carry her, lungs burnings against the cold as the group tore through ice, rock, and trunk. Eventually, they left the ruins completely, moving deeper into a part of the forest that she'd never explored—far away from the trails where the trees were old and a thick undergrowth covered the forest floor. Normally, she'd have a lot of trouble crossing it; however, the state of the memory allowed her through almost as easily as the ghosts themselves, distorting as she moved.

Not enough for her to miss some key details though, like the large spider webs that clung to the highest branches, the ones that Vanessa's unnatural storm hadn't greatly affected. They were new: The giant arachnids were moving into Subcon, beckoned there by the miasma. Normally, Hat Kid could face off against even two or three just fine—so long as she moved quickly enough to get the first strike—but, admittedly, entering what must've been the heart of their nests made her nervous.

If there were spiders around though, they didn't appear. They never seemed to target ghosts to begin with. Therefore, the group continued onward, unhindered, until they reached a rock wall with a small, natural opening carved out of it. It was almost as tall as it was wide, around a meter and a half in diameter: A little snug for her to walk through, but she could move at a comfortable crawl. No doubt it was connected to Subcon's deep, largely unexplored caves. Here, mixed in with the spider webs above, were the same dangling

Moonjumper vanished through the opening first, then each of the Dwellers closely followed by, at last, Hat Kid herself. She was surrounded by immediate darkness, but the path seemed straightforward enough for her to find her way by feel—if the memory hadn't cut off there and she hadn't had to find the next page to continue where she left off. It wasn't until then that she realized the underground tunnel's true end.

It was another gateway that led to the Horizon. At first, given how massive she knew the spiritual realm to be, she wondered where they found themselves within it. Soon though, she recognized the large ravine across a familiar, barren landscape. The forest was missing, although she did see some flowers and mushrooms sporadically grow around them. The same mountainside she knew in present-day stood at a distance, and beneath it, she thought she saw the beginnings of some kind of structures.

There was no nowhere left for Moonjumper to run though, not unless he wanted to escape further into the void and lose his own way. Even then, after coming this far, the Dwellers would probably have followed him to the ends of eternity. The group looked around, dumbfounded, at the mysterious place they'd been cast into. Unwilling to risk losing the phantom prince again, however, they shook away their surprise and dove toward him, still calling him. He moved slower now, but still kept his distance, his hands pressed to the side of his head as if to drown out their voices.

"Just stop! Just go away!" he screamed, speaking for the first time.

It was jarring, hearing his voice laded heavy with emotion. As the young girl knew him, nothing ever seemed to break the collected reign he had over himself. Now though, even with the mask still on, he seemed terrified: A crippled version of the kind and gentle prince that once ruled. Fingers dug into his hair, his body was rigged, and he only kept his head up enough to keep an eye on them.

Seeing this, the group settled down a bit. There was still a restlessness hanging over them, but they relented enough to give him some space and a minute to calm down a little. Eventually, the azure Dweller with the bull mask hovered ahead of the others—still maintaining about two meter's worth of distance between the young monarch and himself. "Your Highness?" he began, wincing as the latter appeared to recoil at the title, "Please… It's just me: It's the baker."

Moonjumper hesitated, but it seemed to stir him a bit. He raised his head a little higher, staring at the other ghost for a long while until something close to recognition tinged his tone, "Baker…?"

"Do you remember me too?" another one of the ghosts chimed in, unable to wait anymore, "I-I worked in at the archives with my dad. You remember him, right?"

There was another delay as he seemed to consider the other's words, then he uttered, a little calmer than before, "Booker…"

The response encouraged the others to reintroduce themselves as well, one by one. It was slow, but Moonjumper gradually seemed to accept each of them with the same, bittersweet relief they felt when they found him. All the while though, Hat Kid stared in confusion at the Dwellers. She'd met the seamstress. She'd met the baker. Teal and azure blue… None of the other ghosts had red bodies either, or wore the mostly blank masks that they did in present-day.

She looked back in the direction they'd entered from—toward a hole in the rock that matched the cave entrance they'd arrived from. It was blocked off, covered with thick strands of red thread. It expanded along the rock wall and surrounding boulders, like it was trying to keep the whole section of land stitched together. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know what was happening, but she couldn't chase away the foreboding that shadowed over her.

"You're all really here!" Moonjumper exclaimed, a pained chuckle resounding from his throat, "You're all ok!" He held one of their tails in his hand, as though in a kind of firm handshake to brace himself and confirm that he wasn't imagining things. With the other, he traced his fingers along the seamstress's mask.

"We thought you departed from us too…"

"So, the others…?"

Here, the happy reunion had to ebb. "N-not all of us, no…" one of the Dwellers confessed, "We think some people may have gotten away in time, but a lot of us are gone. It's mostly the little ones left."

"Your Highness?" the deer mask Dweller asked, "What happened to you? Some of the others said that they saw you in the village, but you were supposed to be away for your studies. What happened then? What happened to the Queen? Why did she do this?!"

"Nevermind that for now," dismissed another, holding off the onslaught of questions with a wave of his tail. However, he voiced his own concerns, "Your Highness, there's a shadow spirit that's taken over the forest! He's taken some of the children hostage and tricked them into working for him! You have to help us save them!"

They couldn't see it, but their words were starting to gravelly affect him. Hat Kid noticed it in the way he let go, inching back. His shoulders slumped down before drawing rigged once more, and his fingers twitched before curling into shaky fists at his sides then unclenching again. He began to shake his head, much to their dismay.

"We'll fight with you!" the azure Dweller tried to reassure him, misinterpreting the gesture. "Together, we can take our home back, but we need you to lead us! Please, your parents are gone, but you're just as capable as they were."

"The Queen's guards are all still on her side, but there's still a few of our own warriors remaining," explained the seamstress, "Things are different now, I know, but after we round everyone up, we should be strong enough."

"Please, we'll follow any plan: Just tell us what to do! After we're chased off that spirit, maybe we can even reclaim the village and take down Vanessa—!"

"Stay back."

The order barely came out as more than a whisper, but the cold way it was said was more than enough to catch the group of-guard. Nevertheless, one of the Dwellers tried to move close to him again anyway, reaching out to him, "Your Highness…?"

"I said get back!"

With a wild swing of his arm, Moonjumper lashed out at the Dwellers. Although he didn't hit them, red cords manifested from his fingertips and cut through the still air. Hat Kid watched in mute terror as they struck the bewildered Dwellers, taking a life of their own and snaking around their bodies, seemingly electrifying them with a magic the same shade of crimson. Each released an agonizing scream, fidgeting in midair as the strings tightened around them. Then their bodies began to warp as they weakened, taking the shape of wispy souls similar to how her own had appeared when Snatcher had taken it. Then they fell into an unconscious state, dropping to the ground, the masks of those who had them clacking against the hard earth when they landed.

Moonjumper just stared, horrified at what he'd just done. He shook his head a second time, burrowing his fingers through his hair once again as his chest rose and fell heavily, taking the illusion of a panicked breath. Cautiously, he drifted back over to them. He tried to rouse them with shaky hands, but they didn't respond.

The young alien knew this wouldn't be the only time he'd do something like this though. There were only five Dwellers here and countless ones spread across the Horizon. This was just an accident, but someday, he'd learn to control the wicked ability and bend others under it.

As she watched the threads wrap around the masks and each of the ghosts' ethereal bodies take on a red glow, she thought of all the faceless Dwellers she'd come across. There were probably some naturally that color, but this was why there were so many. This was what some of the spirits had tried to warn her about.

More of them had appeared: The cords snapped across the wide expanse of memory, taking it over. Were they somehow manipulating it?

The question was answered for her as the deer masked Dweller was the first to finally awaken, taking back his former shape but he once rich, green color now mostly a deep, seeping red. For a moment, as he struggled to rise, it seemed that Moonjumper would help him up, but he then drew himself back just as quickly. The Dweller looked around, bewildered, then turned to Moonjumper and called to him in a small voice, "Your Highness…?"

It took a second for Moonjumper to respond. He took a deep breath to calm himself first, "Are you alright? Do you… remember anything?"

"I-I don't know…" the boy answered, then winced in pain. He stared hard at the ground. "Woodward… I think I'm supposed to be a woodward. Where are we…?"

The more he questioned, the more the strings seemed to tighten around his mask—first enveloping the eye sockets before wrapping over the rest. The strings didn't just act as an attack: They were some kind of mind-control. They were all over the rift because they were actively warping the Dweller's memories. She couldn't get rid of them because they weren't an anomaly: They were an infestation of magic against his mind. If it weren't for the rift, then she probably would never have learned about his true past. His memories were likely kept buried where no one could ever retrieve them, not unless he managed to fight back against the strings himself.

How strong was this power? Did it just manipulate memories or could the phantom ruler fully control people if he wanted to? The idea terrified her and for a moment she imagined the cords as puppet strings, the voice of the Dwellers' being their own, but the words belonging to Moonjumper.

She thought of the Dweller she'd ran across on the outskirts of town, the one who tried to get her to escape the Horizon with him. A hand flew over her mouth. This was happening to him: It was just happening at a slower rate, maybe because of a weak or incomplete version of the attack or because he was still trying to fight it. Moonjumper didn't do this to everyone though, so who were his targets then? Just anyone that brought up his past or anyone that tried to leave?

The more she thought about it, the more her fear grew. However, it wasn't simply because of a newfound awareness to the danger she was in. It was because she knew what she had to do. She couldn't just run away, not when it meant turning her back on so many. She would have to face the prince's full strength herself.

Moonjumper was reluctant, but he placed a hand over the Dweller's 'head' in attempt to comfort him. "That's right. That's who you are," he said, as if trying to reaffirm the fact for himself just as much, "And… it may not look like it right now, but we're home."