"Giratina." he greets the voice as a shadowy form rises behind him.

"Breath… don't tense up." Cyrus thought as he turned to face his jailer. "Could he hear that? Most likely."

His brow furrowed in stress and concentration as he took a breath. Though he was used to the Distortion World's effect on the mortal mind, whenever the lord of the lost approached him it felt as if he was back in the moment where he was first thrusted into this damned abyss.

Vulnerable and infinitesimal.

What can only be described as darkness claws at the farthest depths of his mind, just enough for him to notice its presence but too far away for him to take action. After all, how can you stop something from entering when it hasn't even tried coming in?

"No need to be so scared, mortal." Giratina titters, letting out what seems to be a giggle. "I bring good news."

"I'm sure." he responds.

The two stare at each other in cold silence.

"How pitiful." The deity sighs, not breaking their shared glare, "The One With A Thousand Hands has granted you a chance to redeem yourself."

The prisoner, in a rare moment of emotion, flinches in disbelief, breaking the gaze.

He quickly regains his composure, "I didn't take you to be the type to joke."

"I'm not."

"…"

"You can't refuse this."

"…"

"Well, you can, they won't exactly mind. But you can't. You won't let yourself."

"…how I loathe this reprehensible feeling. Hesitance."

"If you take this offer up, you'll be free. You can do whatever you want."

With that sentence, a fire reignited within him. Freedom. Freedom.

"I can do it all again. No more flaws, no more imperfections. I'll get them out of the way. I'll make my world happen. Whatever it takes." Cyrus brainstormed, a wave of sudden emotion, passion, hate, love. Ideas for ideas and plans for plans began to flood his imagination, all enticed by this flurry of feelings.

"We can be free."

He could be free.

For a moment, it felt like pure bliss, a glimmer of bright hope against the phthalo blue skies of this hell.

"No. Contain yourself. This is what you're fighting against. Once again, your hubris will be your downfall." he whispered harshly, dragging himself out of his fantasies.

"…well?"

Cyrus turns his head to the vague, formless eyes of his jailer and fellow prisoner. The darkness pressing into his mind is ignored, numbed by the flood of emotions he so vehemently hates.

"What is the offer?"