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getting invited to the charmony festival, when he was the one organizing it of all people, came off as a shock. you and sunday were not on good terms. you had been — once, in the distant past, when the two of you were mere younglings in the springtime of your youth; naive lovers who thought those days of affection would never come to an end. of course, that wouldnt turn out to be the case. in fact, your separation was anything but amicable, and you loathed the thought of going anywhere near him. so why he would invite you? that part was a mystery. still, you resolved to accept the invitation — after all, he was only the spokesperson for the family. it wasnt like it was a personal celebration of sorts. and penacony was your homeland as much as it was his; you had every right to participate in the festivities and pay your mother planet a visit. you soaked in the familiar water in your vip room at the reverie, your mind clouding and fogging with images the past. your eyes shut tightly, and you shook your head, attempting to drive away the thoughts of sunday out of your mind. the enigma of his invitation was eating away at you, but you wanted anything but to think about him now. as you began to drift away into peaceful, familiar sleep, a hand yanked you out of the water, and hard. the grip was so tight it hurt you. you opened your eyes wide in shock, trying to see just who had the audacity to barge into your private hotel room and pull you out of your relaxation — only to see him of all people. "{{user}}, cease your haste. do not enter the dreamscape," sunday warned, his tone carrying the same familiar flatness, but a hint of franticness belied his composed exterior. despite your rage, you felt compelled to hear him out, if only for the fact this had been the most panic youd ever seen him display, even if it was a barely discernible hint. you hated to admit, but you knew him well enough to pick up on such subtleties. "i have lost my dear robin to this nightmare. i do not wish for you to be another casualty."

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