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Ringing. Blinding light and ringing drowned Lore until the encroaching blackness engulfed them. They didn’t know where they were but it was warm and still. Not a sound in the air nor vibration to be felt, wherever they were was completely still. Looking around seemed nonsensical; darkness surrounded them. They were completely alone until they weren’t. They reached out their hand, the presence accepted. Although the darkness had dissolved, the warmth persisted. A clean grey room replaced the nothingness. Looking up, Lore saw their hand linked with Crait’s. Together, Lore stood. They were damp. It was the warm feeling they once found comforting however, in the light horrifying. Dreading the reality of the situation, Lore reluctantly looked down. Coating their clothing, a thin veneer of vomit.

“You alright there mate?” Crait’s smile dissolved quickly after getting a real look at Lore. Their skin was pale but seemed more so now.
“…” Lore opened their mouth allowing nothing but hot air to escape. They tried again to convey their sickness but to no avail.
“Lets get you checked out, come on.” Crait placed their arm under Lore’s allowing them to take Lore’s weight effectively before beginning their quest for help.
The small grey room they had appeared in was one of many empty rooms within the labyrinthian structure of wherever they were and the uniformity of the buildings colour scheme didn’t help. The two spent longer than either of them realised wandering the silent corridors looking for the increasingly illusive help Crait promised. Eventually, they came to a lift and their first helpful sign. Thanking the gods, the pair boarded the lift and requested the medical bay. Despite the advances in technology since their initial invention, the lift still acknowledged the request in a long dead woman’s voice. The lift trundled towards its destination, whirring louder than necessary in Lore’s silent opinion before the doors opened once again and the pair alighted. As if a bubble had burst around them, sound flooded the once silent lift carriage. Monitors blared around them with their trademark beeps emphasising the presence of life around them; trolleys with ungreased wheels screamed through the corridors, criss-crossing from room to room; nurses darted, doctors dashed, their shoes soles wailing at the abuse their owners forced them through. The chaos before them was amplified by the chosen décor of the medical bay with it’s bright white walls and brighter white strip lighting. Meandering for a moment, Crait managed to steer an increasingly faint and nauseated Lore to the check in desk. Wanting to spare them any further indignity, Crait sat Lore in an adjacent seat before getting the receptionists attention. Without Crait, Lore was alone in a world that was screaming at them. They wrapped their hands around their head, they plugged their ears but to no success, if anything the screams seemed to grow as if mocking their attempt and their weakness. Lore tried to scream back but their failure only ended with tears. Sobbing, sick smothered and silent, Lore garnered little attention until they felt the same presence they had in the darkness, a hand within reach. Crait was crouched before them hand in hand and that was enough. As if scared of their unity, the world quietened. Lore wiped their tears with their sleeve, hand still locked with Crait’s. Together they stood as a nurse joined them and pointed them towards an unoccupied room.

Hours passed before they were seen again but when a doctor eventually arrived he was more sweat than man. He took a moment to collect himself before speaking, finding a puzzled expression upon his face.
“Why’s it so cold in here?” He spoke with a hint of relief.
“Lore likes it cold, one of the only things they can remember.” Crait replied.
“Lore… As in ‘Lore’?” The doctor swooned. Lore looked to Crait confused. Crait nodded also confused. “Wow.” He gasped before speaking. “Huge fan, sorry. What seems to be the problem then?”
“They said that they can’t remember anything from before about three hours ago.” Crait was about to end their sentence but Lore’s tapping forced them to reconsider “Oh and their voice. Memory and voice.”
The doctor looked saddened by the prospect of his hero. “Memory is a fickle thing, even now but voice I should be able to sort. Be right back.” Spinning on his heels, the doctor was gone leaving only a trace of his rubber soles.
Before Crait could open their mouth, the doctor returned, device in hand. After wiping down Lore’s Adam’s apple, and spreading a clear gel across their entire neck, he placed the wand directly above their throat. It started with a short splutter which evolved into an explosive coughing fit which was over as soon as it had begun and ended with Lore sighing in relief.
“What on Earth did you just give me?” Lore’s voice was hoarse, their face puzzled.
“Nothing, that was just the scanner.” The doctor completed the picture with a puzzled look of his own.

On his orders, Lore spent the night in their cold and quiet medical room. Eventually, they drifted off to sleep. Dreaming.