Van Gogh focuses on protection- not from the Chaos, oddly, but from the chaos of battle around them. Battle is dangerous. Attacks from others can have collateral.

Kiyoiri sucks in a breath, and in the outside world the starts of tears form in her eyes.

(She doesn't let go.)

(It hurts though.)

(It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts-how could anything hurt this much)

In, and out, another breath.

She tries, rather than to break out, to push back with her own memory. The anger of the Chaos- the pain of the Chaos- is familiar.

So very familiar.

(If she can show them that-

The screams of Chaldea as they fled the Ice to flee into the Shadow Border. The mere handful of people, largely children, who made it. As it careened down ice and snow, and brilliant spears of light began to descend upon the world-

'Human History was Wrong,' declared a voice.

They would clear it without mercy.

Chaldea's feeble arc escaped but barely between the fabric of reality, 'Zero Space' as it was called.

When next they saw the world, the entire planet, its oceans, its forests, its people, were long gone, replaced by White. Husks of buildings left behind, with desperate written cries weeping for the inevitable end and slaughter. Mere ghosts of ruin, billions of people, animals, lives,

Reduced to fewer a number than the people fighting now.)

"...If you could talk, I would listen. I have seen your world longer than I have seen this train."

(She knows he won't talk. Well...maybe she doesn't. It's not an unfair guess to make here.

There is the feeling though, that this thing just likes to whine and show off though.)

"...But if you want to fight, we will fight for the same reasons. If you will not give these people the chance to fight, we will fight for them."