The moment Nathan stepped forward, the Hyperion ceased to exist, darkness spreading out and warping reality suddenly---slowly brightening until they were revealed to be standing in the middle of what looked to have been a kind of madhouse tea-party. A long table was set up in the middle of a looming, dimly-coloured forest, draped in splashes of colour and broken, dirty porcelain. Around them, like frozen statues, a corpse-like March Hare in a ragged tuxedo, a skeletal dormouse, an automaton Mad Hatter grinning fiercely. His face was cracked and flaking away, eyes empty black sockets. In the chair at the head of the table, Alice sat bleeding out from a slash in her throat, rough leather stitches binding the parts uselessly together. Blood was bubbling up in her mouth and spilling down her chin in much the same way it had in the small, broken version of Luke. Perhaps that was why the vision was so profoundly disturbing--- Mantis blamed himself a great deal for what had happened, and it seemed he was still torturing himself for it.
Even in his version of the world, he was still the same--white-skinned and emaciated, and looking so terribly fragile suddenly. He glanced up and the mask flickered, giving Nathan a glimpse of a horrifically scarred face, before the illusion settled again.
"Nathan." It was different, here. He could hear himself. "What should I do for Peter? What should I do for you?" He bent slightly, touching fingers to Alice's golden hair, shoulders trembling as he sought to control himself. "What should I do, Nathan? Should I take these things from him?" He didn't even know if he could---but he'd take on the hurt of the entire world for the few people he.. loved. Anything, to keep from being alone again.