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"Well, yeah. It just sounded like..." Whatever. He didn't get the sense this was actually important, from how Soda was talking about it. Just another random dickhead god. "Eh, never mind." He took another bite of his burger. "How long has it been since you picked up Flesh? Actually, what's the...

"Hmmm." Dave narrowed his eyes at him. "You just said the sick fuck behind all that was dispatched the same way as a Dark Matter, and might end up as a better person. That's awfully specific for somebody whose identity you're not clear on. Is this another memory gap?"

Jesus. "Was that another Arceus?"

Dave tilted his head, grabbing another mozzarella stick. "You said before that you liberated him from a Hell dimension, that he was being held captive as some kind of terrorizing demon. Was that just, captive as in stuck in that dimension?"

Dave's ears perked. Interesting. If Soda's brain had been wiped of most anything about Arceus... That could mean Arceus being an asshole was something implanted in him altogether to cover up some more complex reality, like what Maple had said, or that Arceus was indeed an asshole, but someone...

Shit. He hadn't meant for that to get weird and emotional. He looked away. "What about Arceus? What was he like day to day, when you were working under him?" At least it'd told them something. Soda's relationship with her checked out, probably. No way was that stuff fake or doctored memories...

The description tugged at the corner of Dave's mouth. "Sounds like my last relationship." (Wasn't quite a goddamn relationship, was it, but whatever; no fucking way was he explaining to Soda that she'd been married to someone else.) "Just cared so fucking much about everything. Impossibly kind...

Dave nodded slowly. "Right. I'll take care with it. Thanks." He had another bite of his food, watching Soda. "Can you tell me more about her, and your world's Arceus? What you do remember?"

"Huh. He can do that through Spirit's Edge without being there, but only if you come with?" He supposed that could make sense if some form of... spiritual proximity was involved? What the fuck were Cibus physics. Dave exhaled through his nose. If he was going to do this, he'd probably want to...

Dave nodded slowly. That was probably a good idea. See if they could find out what was actually going on with Soda Prime. Even no answer would be information. "What if you came along? Might be even easier for him to listen to himself. If Substitutes can do that, anyway."

"You actually think he's just setting up? My bets are on something went very wrong." Dave looked away, finishing the mozzarella stick. "You think he'd show up at Spirit's Edge if we asked Buffet? Place where you can talk to spirits from anywhere, even other worlds?"

"Well, Vix and several familiars earlier tried to go to the moon and got blasted by some kind of Blacklight cannon along with Deoxys who they somehow roped into taking them there, so that's one explosion, I guess." Everyone seemed pretty sure the familiars'd drift down to Cibus eventually...

…Wait, Mia? Mia! What? I don’t know, just making sure you didn’t go to the fucking moon and get space-lasered like half the other familiars apparently just did. You’re still on Cibus? Yes. There was no point in going to the moon early with too few people. We know Soda is there. Okay. Good...

Soda was really not dealing well with all this mental damage, was he. Dave was not his fucking therapist, for Christ's sake; what the hell was he supposed to say to any of that? He looked at Soda for a moment before starting in on his burger. "Look, whatever was done to you, you're not broken...

Dave shrugged. "Maybe you're the contingency plan. In case he gets caught and fails to escape, you head off to the moon and set whatever it is he wanted in motion anyway."

Dave glanced over towards Giovanni's cell. "The whole obsession with the fucking moon had me pretty suspicious that he had something to do with it. Still does, if I'm honest. What if he just let you think you'd double-crossed him while actually having fucked with your memory so you'd do exactly...

Soda's plan continued to be the most insane apocalypse bullshit, and the fact it was coming out of the mouth of the same guy who'd just chosen to give him half the mozzarella sticks was just maddening. Dave shuddered, looking away for a moment. Then something occurred to him, and he turned back...

Dave exhaled. "Team Spectrum's a disparate band of whoever the hell Diyem got to agree to this. Some total nutjobs, some harmless weirdos, some decent people. Like you'd get with any group like this. But one way or another we're good at what we do. We get shit done. We save the day. Hard to...

Mmmm. Dave had really been hoping they could get somewhere with figuring out patterns to what had been erased. "You really have no idea what he's doing up on the moon? Was the thought process just oh yeah, going to the moon sounds like a great idea, let's do that? No plans for what you were...

Dave winced. "I was assuming the damage'd already been done. Can't break it more without access to you again, kind of thing." The idea of having your brain fucked with to a point where it'd just... deteriorate on its own, or just shatter if you thought the wrong thought, was fucking horifying...