Phantom is nervous.

If he's honest, he isn't really sure why he's here- Or, for that matter, what 'here' is. It doesn't feel like home.

He rubs at his gloves, feeling them slide over the cold flesh beneath. There are patterns on them, shimmering starbursts and lightning strikes that are only visible in the right lightning.

He's in a waiting room.

It isn't like any waiting room he's ever seen before, but that's what it is. The walls are carved. The chairs are upholstered in emerald velvet. Decorations sparkle with jewels and precious metals.

It's still a waiting room, and Phantom is waiting.

The door opens. Phantom looks up at the scowling, one-eyed visage of one of the ghosts who had pulled him away from the wreckage and... it. At least, he thinks it is one of those ghosts. He had seen others who looked similar. Almost identical, really. As if to illustrate this point, two more of those ghosts emerged.

Phantom stiffened. They hadn't been cruel, but they hadn't been kind, either, and they had refused to explain anything that was happening.

"Does he really not remember anything?" asked one of them.

"Evidently not," said another.

"Does that surprise you?"

Phantom liked this voice more. It belonged to Clockwork, who was kind. Sort of. Even if he seemed to be subordinate to the other ghosts.

The eternally shifting ghost briefly touched Phantom's shoulder as he passed. Acknowledgement.

"Most do forget, when they pass on," said Clockwork.

"But he was different," said one of the others. They had shuffled themselves, and Phantom was no longer sure which was which.

"Not different enough."

"He cannot rule like this."

"And yet he must," replied Clockwork. "You know the law. The Right of Conquest."

The ghosts didn't seem to like that. Phantom shrunk back in his seat.

"We can find someone new in the same way."

"I cannot stop you," said Clockwork. "But he did defeat Pariah Dark. Do you think he will remember you kindly, if in his infancy you torment him by throwing him into war? If his ignorance is what bothers you, let him learn, as all young things must."

Maybe Clockwork wasn't their subordinate? But he had done everything they had said, before.

"In the wild?" said one of them, scandalized.

Clockwork sighed. "We do have schools, you know."

.

"But how will I breathe?" asked Phantom, staring down at the vast expanse of water beneath his feet.

"You don't breathe, Phantom," said Clockwork.

"Oh," he said, frowning. That was right. Actually, no one he knew needed to breathe. So where had he gotten the idea? More pressingly... "Do I need to do this?"

"The Drowned Quarter is home to some of the finest educational facilities in the Infinite Realms." He paused. "Also, the Observants hate getting wet, so they won't bother you while you're studying."

Phantom brightened. Literally. "Okay," he said. "And they can teach me how to be a good king and help people?"

"I certainly hope so," said Clockwork.