Ardyn's slumber as he recovers is not a peaceful one. He's still at first, the deep sleep of one who's exhausted his strength, but starts to toss and turn as all the things hidden in his mind come crawling back. It's been a long time since he slept anyway, actually slept - the Scourge eliminated any real need for rest along with his mortality. But here with the disease dormant, he lacks its protection, forced to reckon with the burden of all those years and all the things he's done. Though he does not feel regret for his deeds nor pity for his victims, it's still... unpleasant to have the mire of his mind dredge up those shadows. Annoying is a better word. There is barely anything in the world that does not annoy him, that does not make him exhausted.

There is another nagging feeling, too, remembrance of... a fight, yes... old memories. Things he wants to bury. Anger, confusion, the feeling of betrayal, helplessness... The last time he felt like this was when he woke up in Besithia's laboratory. In the fog of his troubled sleep he wonders desperately if he is not about to open his eyes there again. What a twisted - and yet fitting, predictable - joke it would be if he were forced by Bahamut to relive his miserable existence again and again. Playing his "role" with no end in sight, no end at all...

But when he does finally open his eyes the room that greets him is as spartan as they come. His "quarters" at the laboratory were rather more cluttered, as are his own lodgings in Avalon. Where could he be, then?

With a groan Ardyn tries to lift his head, focus on the surroundings - and it's perhaps amazing how quickly his gaze does focus once he realizes that Somnus is here, his face immediately twisting in anger and distaste. He tries to push himself up on his elbow as well, shoulders hunched defensively, his manner once again reminiscent of a cornered beast.

"What mockery is this?"

Opening his eyes like this was not what Ardyn expected: even though he did not plan to stay a ghost for long (surely there would be death mages he could trick into resurrecting him), this is far sooner than anything he could have planned. The feeling of a mortal body is now strangely uncomfortable, the weight of it, the dizziness after waking, even the feel of cloth against his body. It's... strange. And there is a scent...

Sylleblossoms. Why? How?

Suddenly, his thoughts coalesce into remembrance and understanding. Somnus. Somnus! Somnus, alive once more somehow, bringing him back, meddling again! White-hot fury floods Ardyn's mind, so strong this time that he can't move, can't even speak with the tension of it; it feels like his entire body is filled with acid. But there is a difference between this and the way he usually feels; for some reason, right now there is a feeling of... frustration.

Though in reality barely a few moments pass, Ardyn feels as though his thoughts fall into place like neat little bricks, step by step. Somnus is alive: that means he found someone to revive him. It's unlikely, but not impossible for Somnus to have made some manner of friends here. Somnus knows that it was Ardyn who opened the gates to the Underworld. Ardyn himself is alive now. The price of a resurrection is another life.

He's alive now. By his brother's hand, by the hand of someone Ardyn took some pleasure in killing, even if it did not bring him quite the satisfaction he'd hoped to find, did not fill the yawning void within him. It makes no sense. No, it makes no sense, none of it, none at all.

Ardyn clenches his fists at hearing Somnus's voice until his knuckles are white, resolutely staring at the ceiling only. There are many things he could say in reply, mocking and disdainful. But the anger and frustration are so deep that Ardyn does not even find the strength to hide behind his usual theatrics.

"What," he manages to hiss through gritted teeth, "is wrong with you?"