Wirt and Norman hadn't talked in a while. The last time they said anything to each other was two hours ago, when Norman asked Wirt how he was doing, and Wirt responded in strained moaning. Norman kind of got the idea with that, and he hadn't asked again.

It seemed like they were waiting forever when something finally happened, but when it did, it wasn't Dipper, Adam and Ash coming back, it was the rain. Norman shifted worriedly, but at first, it wasn't a problem.

"Uh... Wirt?" Norman asked, but Wirt didn't respond. Norman gulped, and then louder: "Wirt?!"

Wirt let out a grunt in response.

"It's raining now..." Norman told him. "We should probably get out of the cave."

"What?"

Norman sighed, and then repeated himself louder. "I said we should probably get out of the cave before it floods!"

Wirt opened his mouth to answer, and then froze, wincing as a wave of pain hit him. Eventually, Wirt gave him a strained: "Y-Yeah, let's go."

Norman wondered if he should help him, but Wirt had already forced himself up, and was moving up to the entrance. Norman followed him.

Even though it was a short walk, it was almost a little difficult; their feet slipped from underneath them on the now slippery rocks under their feet, and Norman had to grab onto the jutting rocks in order to stay upright. The rain had already picked up, and it was creating a small raging river under their feet, walking the walk all the harder.

Norman gripped onto the side of the wall tightly, and then looked guiltily over to Wirt, who looked like he was struggling. Norman almost had an advantage on him; Wirt couldn't grab onto anything.

"Here, Wirt!" Norman called, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of the rain. "WIRT!!"

Wirt jumped, as if surprised, and finally turned to Norman. Norman reached out, and grabbed the sleeve of Wirt's white shirt, tugging on it.

"Here, I'll help you!" Norman practically screamed him his face, but it was effective, because Wirt finally seemed to hear him for the first time.

Using the wall with one hand, and hanging on to Wirt with the other, Norman struggled up the slight slope of the cave: something that seemed so easy before, but now looked neigh impossible. Wirt nearly slipped a couple times, but Norman kept him upright, until they finally got to the entrance of the cave, and forced both himself and Wirt through it, both of them collapsing onto the long grass outside. The rain hurt against his skin, but Norman supposed it was better than drowning.

"Wirt..." Norman asked. "Are you alright?"

Wirt didn't respond. He must have not said it loud enough.

"Hey, Wirt!" Norman called, louder. They were both laying on their stomachs, Norman propped up by his elbows, while Wirt was still lying down, his face turned away. Norman reached over to nudge him, shaking his friend lightly. "Wirt!"

Again, no respond, and Norman was starting to worry. Painfully, Norman got up, moving closer to Wirt. Why wasn't Wirt responding? Why wasn't Wirt moving...?

"Wirt, hey!" Norman called to him, shaking him. "Wirt, come on, get up!"

Finally, Norman just rolled Wirt over, and he gasped when he saw that Wirt's eyes were closed. The small ball of worry in his stomach exploded into a full-blown panic now.

"Wirt? Wirt?!" Norman cried. "Wirt, get up! What's going on!?"

Finally, after shaking him didn't work, Norman leaned down, quieting himself enough to listen, and then breathed a sigh of relief as he heard breathing. Wirt was asleep, not... not dead.

The relief hit him like a tidal wave, laying down beside Wirt. Now that the panic had ebbed away, he realized he was exhausted. It made sense, after all, it had pretty much been an all-nighter while doing a lot of physical things, and Norman wasn't used to either of those. He felt tired. Really, really tried. Wirt had the right idea probably... it would be nice... to just go to sleep...

When Norman opened his eyes again, he was back in the white void. He blinked, looking around and wondering what to do now. Technically, there was nothing TO do, so Norman sat down. He supposed to other people, he might look like a loner, but Norman was rarely ever alone. Not like this, anyway.

Suddenly, something happened. The sound of static filled Norman's ears, and he blinked. He remembered what that meant.

"...Norman," the voice said. Their mysterious, untrustworthy godly patron.

"Um... hello?" Norman told him, standing up. "Er... I don't really know what's going on. Where are-?"

"This is a dream," the voice answered him.

"Oh... okay," Norman eventually replied. "Why-?"

"I wanted to talk to you, Norman." Once again, the god answered him easily, guessing what he was about to say. Was that about to be this whole conversation? "I wanted to ask you some... questions."

Norman frowned. He didn't like the way that was said. "What kind of questions?"

"About your ability," the voice told him. "I haven't seen anything like it before, and I suppose I was curious."

"Curious, huh?" Norman sighed, and then he shook his head. "Um, okay, as long as I'm allowed to ask some questions, too."

The voice stayed quiet for a long time after that, enough for Norman to worry about what he said, before it replied to him.

"Their all the same..." the voice sighed, but it continued before Norman could wonder what that meant. "Yes, I suppose that's fair. I'll let you ask first, if you want."

Norman was surprised. "R-Really?" he asked. "Uh, thank you."

"Hurry up."

"O-Okay, okay," Norman said, and he racked his brain for something to ask. In the abrupt turn around, his mind had suddenly gone blank. "Uh... first of all, who are you?"

"All the same..." the voice sighed. "Hm... I have too many names to count, but I suppose you may call me Anemos."

"Anemos, huh?" Norman repeated. "Is that Greek?"

"...It my turn for a question now," Anemos told him. "Tell me about your... powers."

"Powers?" Norman repeated, taken aback. "You mean the fact that I can see ghosts?"

"Unless you have another power I should now about."

"Uh... no, that's all I have," Norman answered. He frowned, thinking for a second. "I... don't really know what to tell you. I can see ghosts? That's pretty much it."

"All ghosts?"

"I think so," Norman replied, too surprised by the question to realize that Anemos wasn't playing by the rules he had set. "Unless there are other ghosts."

"What have they told you?"

Norman frowned. "Not much... I don't think. They don't remember much. Also, isn't it my turn for a question?"

"I suppose so," Anemos said. "Go ahead."

"Right..." Norman said, and this time, he actually had a question to ask. "What happened here, to all those kids? Why are they all kids?"

"Isn't that three questions?" Anemos asked.

Norman crossed his arms, glaring at... well, probably not Anemos, because Norman had no clue where he was, so he just glared vaguely upward.

"Alright, alright..." Anemos sighed. "In answer to your questions, there's not much I can tell you. As you've discovered, there is danger all over this place. They died all over the place, some to the animals here, some to natural disaters, and others to disease."

"Why aren't there any adults?" Norman asked him.

"Well, I suppose because none of them made it to adulthood," Anemos replied, and he sounded amused. "I apologize if that's not the answer you're looking for, because that's the truth: none of them grew up."

Well, THAT answer sounded slightly ominous. Before Norman could dwell on it, though, Anemos asked his next question.

"Where did you get your powers?"

"From my grandma," Norman told him. "She could see ghosts, too. She was the first ghost I ever saw, because she died before I was born. We liked watching zombie movies together."

"...I see. Your question now."

"Oh, right," Norman realized. "Uh... Ash doesn't remember how he died. Do you know?"

"Yes, I saw it," Anemos' voice changed, like he was remembering something. "He was killed by one of the creatures he took care of."

Norman frowned. That seemed a little anti-climatic... and also incorrect. Ash had told him that his body held some sort of clue for getting out, but how could that be if he was just killed by some random animal? That didn't make any sense.

In any case, Anemos continued, asking his own question. "How many people know about your power?"

"Altogether?" Norman asked him.

"Yes."

Norman frowned, thinking back. "Well, here, Dipper, Wirt, Norman and Ash know, but back home, only my family. And Neil and his big brother. And most of the ghosts I've met, I guess."

"I see."

Norman frowned. "Why are you even asking me all this? What's the point?"

Anemos hummed. "Is that your question?"

Norman thought about that for a second. Anemos was probably going to lie about it anyway if he needed to, but just in case...

"Yeah, it is," Norman told him.

"The fact of the matter is, I'm just curious," Anemos told him, he seemed amused. "I already told you this earlier. You should choose your questions more carefully."

"Was that my last one?" Norman asked nervously, And Anemos laughed.

"No, I still have more things to ask of you," Anemos told him. "That was just a general warning. As for my next question: how many ghosts have you talked to here, in this place?"

"Oh, a lot," Norman told him. He thought back to the towns he had gone through. "I don't know how many exactly, but a lot, I think. There were like, whole towns of them."

"I see..." Anemos said. "So how-."

"It's my question now," Norman reminded him.

"So it is," Anemos realized. "My bad. Go ahead."

"..." Norman thought for a minute. "...You said a creature killed Ash, What kind of creature."

Anemos stayed quiet for a while. "I doubt you've heard of it... but if you must know, it's called a Alegata."

"Huh," Norman said. "Have I seen a-?"

"It's not your turn," Anemos told him flatly, and Norman got the sense that he was angered now, and was badly trying to hide it. "My question now. Were there any ghosts you talked to that stood out? Perhaps something they said, or perhaps they looked strange..."

Norman blinked, and then thought back, trying to remember. If he did think of anyone, he doubted he would have answered honestly, but he couldn't think of anything to give Anemos.

"There was no one," Norman told him. "I mean, they were all different, because they were all people, but there wasn't anything strange about any of them."

"Are you sure?"

"It's my turn now," Norman told him, but it wasn't as lighthearted as it had been before. Something in their dynamic had changed, and Norman was less ready to give Anemos the answers he wanted than before. It was a little nerve-wracking, going up against a god, but Ash was right: he couldn't be trusted.

But the problem was that Norman wasn't really sure what Anemos was pretending not to be.

"I'm going with what I had asked you before," Norman told him. "Have I ever seen a... a whatever you said before?"

Norman heard Anemos scoff at that. "I assure you that you have not. Now, it seems we're running out of time, so we'll cut this sort. One more question."

"For each of us," Norman demanded, and he could practically hear Anemos' annoyance.

"Fine. For each of us," Anemos seemed to pause, and take a deep breath before he continued, much more gently, thankfully. "For me... what you had said before, that you hadn't met anyone strange... are you sure?"

Norman hesitated for a second, wondering if he should lei, but what was there to lie about?

"Yes," he finally decided. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Ah." For some reason, Anemos sounded relieved. "I see. For your sake, you'd better be telling the truth."

Before Norman could defend his innocence, Anemos continued.

"Well, hurry up. It's your turn now."

Norman sighed, annoyed, but he didn't push it. He wondered what he should do... Anemos, for some reason, didn't want to talk about the thing that killed Ash, so he should probably push that more... but when he opened his mouth, that wasn't what came out.

"How do we get out of here? How can I go home?" Norman asked, and to his embarrassment, desperation leaked out of his voice. But he couldn't help it! He'd never been away from home for so long, and even if it wasn't great there, it was better than being dead here. He wanted to see his grandma again, and Neil and maybe even his sister, too. He wanted to see his parents again, and the longing hit him so suddenly and so hard that he nearly felt like crying.

However, the longing quickly turned to despair as the air around him turned colder, and it suddenly felt like Anemos was cruelly laughing at him. His next words were full of terrible amusement and mockery.

"You can't."

Norman woke up with a start, shooting up from his position of: face-down in the dirt, to sitting up. He swallowed, and then immediately gagged. There was dirt on his tongue.

"Oh, Norman, you're awake now," Adam noted, and Norman whipped his head around to stare at him.

"Adam!" Norman cried. "You're back?"

Adam grimed. "Uh huh. And we've brought the magic back, too."

Norman blinked, and the turned to where Adam was motioning to. His eyes widened at Dipper carefully lifting up Wirt's hands, and wrapping them in a long, pink, sparkly cloth. His eyes widened.

"Oh, you found it!" Norman realized, relieved. "And you're all safe?"

Adam chuckled. "Only traumatized. This guy forgot to tell us about the Burrow-Swimmer."

Adam nudged Ash, who jumped to defend himself.

"Well, there was a lot going on!" Ash cried. "You can't blame me!"

"We need died!" Adam argued, but he was only teasing. He and Norman laughed at Ash, who pouted. But eventually, Ash joined in, too.

"Don't worry about it," Adam assured him when his laughter died down. "We're all fine. Anyway, were you having some sort of nightmare, Norman? You looked kinda spooked when we found you..."

Norman smiled at his friend's concern, and he opened his mouth, ready to tell them... before he hesitated. He'd already decided that Anemos was lying about almost anything, so in the end, nothing he heard really mattered, right?

Eventually, Norman shrugged. "It was nothing," he told them. "Just a nightmare."