Kiran was shocked at the entrance of the girl, and shrugged as Fjorm accused him of hiding Orbs. “I thought they were gone, too! I don’t know-” His face went blank as he flipped out Breidablik. He opened the chamber, and... The cork was gone. As he ran to the girl’s aide, carrying the hot water that Fjorm had requested, he realized what had happened:<br/><br/>Breidablik was awake.<br/><br/>For the first time since the last orb had been fired, Breidablik, the Divine weapon capable of summoning Heroes from the farthest Realms with nothing but the pull of a trigger, was awake once again. It sensed the cork that was loaded into it, and began to gather the radiant energy of the three people in the room. When it had charged enough, it fired at Kiran’s hip, summoning another Lucina.<br/><br/>A ping of pain shot through Kiran as he remembered the other- no,<i>his</i>Lucina’s cruel demise at the hands of Surtr. He didn’t even realize Fjorn’s skimpy clothing as he remembered that day, or more specifically, that passage of time, like the design on his weapon. Surtr has burned her, slowly and painfully, from foot to head, as she screamed for mercy. If he had been a strong Commander... the Hero he was supposed to be... she would have lived. Or at least, she would have had a faster death. But Surtr saw the love in his eyes, the love for the blue haired Princess, and tortured him with it. Tortured her for it, to her last scream, her last breath.<br/><br/>Her final act had been to toss her lance to him. Afterwards, he tried to Fire Breidablik, but the chamber was empty of Orbs. He frantically searched for more as he backed away from the eternal Flames, but he couldn’t find any. In a last ditch attempt, he used the Lance techniques Lucina had taught him ‘just in case’ to kill the demon king.<br/><br/>Those few minutes were, ironically, burned in his mind. And nothing, not even this new Lucina, could fix that. It didn’t help that this new Lucina wielded a Sword. He said, “I- I want to help, but- I’m sorry...” Then he, the Legendary Hero, ran. He ran, crying, back to the room. He reloaded Breidablik with all the corks he could find, almost considering opening all the unopened ones before coming back to himself. He slapped himself, said, “C’mon, Kiran. You’re better than this. You- you can do this.” He grabbed a few bandages and ran back to help.