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Prestississimo

[Skyship Aria] [Main Thread 2] They Lie Sleeping

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@Eternity@Slank44

Dinner was delicious, as usual. Cecil smiled at his wife as he dried the plates in front of him. Aria didn't notice, intent as she was on scrubbing a bit of grime off of one of their plates. Cecil didn't care. They saw each other so little these days, smiling at the sight of his wife was only natural.

With a bit of elbow grease, Aria managed to get the plate clean, and then she turned to Cecil, intent on handing it to him so he could dry it. She caught his impish grin, and she returned the expression warmly. She leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Cecil's grin widened and he made a playful grab for her, but Aria danced away airily, laughing musically all the while. She sat back down at the table, and rested her chin on her hand, staring at Cecil imploringly. He made a deliberate show of drying off the plate with excruciating slowness, and her expression morphed into a playful pout. He laughed at her and sped up his wiping, getting all of the water off of the plate and then setting it in it's place in the cupboard.

Task accomplished, Cecil wandered over to the table. He sat opposite of his wife, and asked, "So when do you leave tomorrow?"

Aria shrugged. "Sometime between four and five. Ship doesn't leave until nine, but you know how I like to be early."

Cecil chuckled. "You'd think I would figure it out after so many years of being the first to the naval ball."

The returning laugh was light and easy, and the two leaned in over the table, speaking the language of married couples at one another. The warm glow of the kitchen lights illuminated flashing grins and warm eyes, and all the while, unnoticed by either of them, stood an observer. A grey figure directed it's piercing gaze at the couple, watching the conversation from a darkened corner of the room. The pale, hollow-eyed specter watched the intruder with a cold rage.

Edited by Prestississimo

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"Wake up. J'son, wake up. Wake up!"

A young J'son L'rock felt himself jerk awake and sat up in his bed. For just a moment he felt extremely disoriented, two different people at the same time. Then he brushed aside his confusion and got ready for his day. Pulling some rough clothing, he climbed out of his bed. "Mother?, did you call me?" he yelled down the stairs. 

"No dear," his mother Tiana replied "but since you are awake come downstairs and get some breakfast." 

"Alright," he said as he fastened his small dagger, a gift from his father J’zargo, to his belt. Walking down the stairs he could smell the delicious breakfast his mother had prepared. As he dug into his food he commented to his mother "I had a very strange dream mother."

"Oh really?" she responded, not truly interested, but willing to indulge her son. 

"Yes mother," he responded, "there were flying machines! and giant monsters! and...." Suddenly he felt his memory cloud over. "You know, I suddenly can't remember anything else..." he said with a puzzled expression. "Anyway, is there anything you need from me today mother?"

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Lydia stood among the ranks of her fellow solders of the Air Corps, her flight gear snuggly strapped and buttoned appropriately. She stood at attention along with her fellow mates, each staring forward with a straight face and a clear mind. The commanding officers and those just below would move among the ranks inspecting each and every one of them. Some of the men and women would be pulled a step out of the line, each following minor commands to better inspect their uniforms.

Soon enough a command would be bellowed out and the ranks would about face and break away for their morning meal in the mess hall. Lydia would bump into one of her fellow comrades in arms, the man was tall and well-built for where he came from.

“Aiden! Watch it!” A grin would grace her pale face, brightened against the back ground of her long thick red hair tightly braided against her head. “If you would of hit me any harder I might’ve flown away with wings of my own!”

Aiden would laugh a deep throated laugh, slapping his massive hand against the back of Lydia. The two of them would continue to throw jests at one another, as they made their way to the mess hall to grab some grub before taking flight on their airship.

Although the memory of this seemed like reality, in the back ground stood a woman who wouldn’t have normally been present during this time, but Lydia had yet to notice. Everything seemed normal, a reality once lived.

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The wedding ceremony was gorgeous. Everything was in place, exactly as dictated by his soon-to-be wife's family. The pair of them had been rather lax in their own preparation, and the bride's relatives had taken it upon themselves to make sure absolutely everything was perfect. Cecil hadn't enjoyed the stress of it, but he wouldn't trade the end result for anything in the world. He stood at the front of the lawn, face beaming in unconstrained delight, as love of his life made her way down towards him.

He focused in on her, beautiful beyond description, wearing the perfect dress. The trappings of a traditional Genesaren wedding were complicated, but well-worth the effort, standing here now.

It felt like an age, but eventually she joined him, and the pair stood in front of a small group of holy men and women. Different priests of separate cults each offered their blessings in turn, before finally the holy man for the God of the sky read the vows.

Cecil was barely listening, his attention rapt on his beloved, so it came to a surprise to him more than most when he heard a strange rasping voice, "I do." Confused, the sailor ran the last few moments once more through his mind, and realized that the voice was responding to the obligatory question from the priest, "does anyone object?"

All eyes turned to the source of the unheard of complaint, and what they found sent blankets of fear through their owners. An apparition in a gown, a mockery of the bride's own, floated down the lawn, towards the couple. It barely had a face, save a hollow mouth and glowing, furious eyes. "He is mine," the specter's horrible whisper sent chills down the spines of the living. "And this shall not be sullied!"

Cecil shook his head. This wasn't right. This wasn't how he remembered his wedding. That thought stopped him cold. Remembered. What did that mean? This was happening right now. How could he remember something in real-time?

A splitting headache assaulted the sailor, and he knelt down gripping his skull in pain. He gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes against what felt like the total implosion of all of his senses. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Edited by Prestississimo

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"Not today sweetheart. You can go scrounging if you want, just stay away from the power stations," Tiana said to her son in a soft tone.

At the mention of scrounging, his favorite leisure activity by far, the young J'son visibly perked up. Once he had consumed his breakfast, at a rather rapid pace, he put on his sandals an left his home. Being a young child, he, of course, made a b-line for the nearest power facility. As he climbed and clambered through large pipes, ventilation ducts an similar sources of concealed movement he began to feel distinctly odd. Not bad, but very strange. The closer he got to his destination the more the feeling grew. Eventually he was able to identify it as a crushing, overwhelming deja vu. As he walked onward to his destination he began to catch glimpses of motion in his peripherals that seemed to vanish when he turned to look at them. Onward he walked. Eventually, plagued by phantasms and half-formed memories the whole way, he arrived at his destination. From his perch in a high ventilation shaft he could look down and see into the core of one of his home-cities many phenomenal power generation facilities. The transparent force-fields allowed a bright light to radiate outward from the core. It was this light that so fascinated the young J'son, though he could not have explained why. He sometimes spent hours just staring into the unchanging sea of light. As he prepared to indulge in his fascination he saw something he had never expected to see. There was, somehow, despite the impossibility, a woman in the core.

Edited by Slank44

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Lydia was living a day of her past, or was it her past? The thought would pop up in her mind as she stood watch over her Flight, although she wasn’t on the main ship doing her navigation duties she was pulling her shift for over night watch. It was before the brink of a war, and tensions were high with everyone. Worries and stress plagued them like a disease, taunting them in their sleep as their bodies shook them awake.

 

Holding her post with her weapon slung over her shoulder, she would turn to find Aiden coming out of the barracks ready to take up his shift for the evening. Smiling at seeing her close friend, the massive man looked light a beast in his full uniform with his gun ready. Some would think it was silly for them to do this procedure, but it prepared them for the hostilities in the future.

 

“Evening Aiden, ready for a night of boring watch?” Lydia loved the way he looked in his uniform, even more she loved she served with a man of such honor. What he didn’t know was the affections she carried for him, how her heart beat for him.

 

After turning over her post to her fellow comrade, she made it to the barrack with the others to finish out her sleep although it seemed odd. A woman took up a space near the other end of the room, her uniform was similar but out of place. Staring hard at the hollowed eyed woman, it seemed like she melded in with the shadows..

 

Wait, this isn’t right, this is a memory.. Or is it.. That woman wasn’t here before. Light sensitivity took over Lydia, a screaming headache shoved its way into her brain. Kneeling down grasping the side of her head, she would cringe to the pain that was becoming overwhelming. Standing up still holding her head, she would stare at the woman. “Identify yourself!”

 

Screeching rang out, as the woman rushed forward towards Lydia. Everything was wrong, or was it?

Edited by Eternity

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Cecil awoke screaming, a nightmare plaguing his memory. He panted, as he lay in bed, nightclothes stained with sweat, and tried to recover himself. He turned to see if he had woken his wife, in his panic, and a wave of confusion swept over him when he realized she was gone. Dissonance flooded Cecil's senses, as he tried to figure out what was going on, before his memory finally resolved itself. Aria was aboard the Score, patrolling the skies. There was a war on and she was on tour. Cecil sighed with relief as the knot behind his skull untangled, his confusion swept away by cathartic resolution. Idly, the captain checked his magitech watch for the time, noting that he had another few hours to sleep before he actually needed to wake up.

He rolled back over, intent on getting some shut eye, when the headache returned vengeance. The source of it seemed to be the sound of the heavy stone knocker at the entrance to his home. This wasn't right. Who was trying to come in? It was the middle of the night. The captain dragged himself out of bed. He threw on a shirt, and picked up a lamp, before leaving the bedroom, trying to clear his head all the while. The infernal racket from the knocker clouded his senses, and he resolved to change the thing out at the first possible opportunity. That wasn't the only thing bothering him, however. The nagging sense that something further was wrong intensified, along with the pain behind his forehead, as he trekked through the house. Déjà vu assaulted him throughout his journey to the front entrance. Something about the pictures, on the walls. Why did his wife look like that in their photos? Who was the hollowed eyed woman next to him?

Somehow the hallway to the door stretched impossibly long, and the surreal took over. Darkness loomed around him in spite of his burning lamp, and strange sounds played at the edges of his senses. Cecil squinted his eyes as he tried to focus on what was wrong, on what was wreaking havoc with his perception, but he couldn't pin anything down as the source of his affliction. He doubled over, clutching his head, gibbering madness pushing against his senses. The rhythmic thud, thud, of the door knocker intensified, in spite of the fact that he had stopped approaching the door, and the noise of it reverberated throughout the house.

Somehow, impossibly, Cecil found himself in front of the entrance, his hand on the door. Manic laughter played out behind him, and he wanted to turn to look, but he couldn't bring himself to turn away from the entrance. His hand slowly turned the handle, against his will, and inch by tiny inch he pulled the door open. He didn't want to. He knew what was on the other side. He remembered. The date. He'd seen it when he checked his watch for the time. Today was the day. The day she....

How did he remember? It hadn't happened yet. Oh but it had. He knew with dreadful certainty that it had, and he knew who was on the other side of the door, the unassuming man in the grey uniform with the impossible news. How could it be? Hadn't living it once been enough? Had he lived it once? Again would kill him, hearing the word on his wife. But how could there be an again?

The door opened. Against Cecil's will he pulled it open. But the unassuming man in the grey uniform with the impossible news wasn't there. Instead stood a woman in a tattered uniform. Her body was ashen grey, and soaking wet, and it was broken all over. An elbow bent at an impossible angle, the other arm gone entirely, a knee blown out of its socket, compound rib fractures poking white out of her shredded naval livery. Still, Cecil recognized her. Long black hair framed sad eyes and a tragic, shattered smile.

Everything in Cecil warred, some of him wanting to close the door, and the greater part just wanting to stare once more at the woman he loved, even torn apart as she was. Aria, and it was undoubtedly her, opened her mouth, and her words came out as a raspy whisper, spoken as if from underwater. Cecil cared not. He hung onto every word.

"I'm sorry my love, for leaving you too soon." Her eyes turned downcast, for just a moment, but she looked up again swiftly, burning irises putting a hole through Cecil's own."But my death does not excuse your weakness."  The words cut into him life a knife, and he stared at her with an expression beyond pain. " Don't look at me like that. You know I'm right. I'm gone, but you still have a family, Cecil. Go back to them. Time enough to join me later, but tonight is not that night. Go, and go knowing I am with you, always."

Tears welled up in Cecil's eyes, and he failed at choking back a sob. "You were always right, Aria. Every time." He fought both impulses, but it was a futile effort. A cry of anguish escaped from Cecil, and he embraced his wife, sobbing into her shredded uniform. "Just a moment," he begged, "Gods just a moment."

She stiffened in his embrace, before patting his back with her remaining arm, wielding impossibly in spite of it's evident broken state. "Just a moment my Conductor. Just a moment before you must be strong again, and lead the players once more." She started singing, a quiet lullaby every Genesaren knew. The raspy quality of her voice was gone, and her melodic tone ran through Cecil and into house behind him as nostalgia flooded into the core of his being.

"Sleep now, into the night
let your dreams take aflight

Follow them to the North that's Great
Or down and down,
Where the Cold South awaits

Let them fly to the Glorious West
Or into the mountains
Where the Majestic East rests

Wherever your dreams take you tonight
Remember them fondly
In the morning light"

The embrace dragged on, and gradually Cecil succumbed to his exhaustion and the relaxing song. The captain fell asleep in the arms of his love, and awoke for the second time that night screaming.

Wracking sobs ran through Cecil's body as he sat bolt upright in his chair on the bridge of the Aria. His cries of anguish were loud enough to wake the dead, and he quickly howled himself hoarse in his grief. The sadness and pain gradually turned to rage, and Cecil found himself slamming his fists into the arms of his chair, over and over and over and over, until his hands felt numb.

Each impact was punctuated with a curse, and slowly but surely he worked his anger out on the captain's chair. Eventually, after a short bit, he as spent, emotionally exhausted from the night's tribulations. He knew now he'd been dreaming, but this was clearly no ordinary nightmare. The things he'd seen, the world he'd relived. Cecil slammed his fist into the chair arm one more time for good measure, ending his tirade with a "Gods be damned!"

After a few seconds of heavy breathing, the captains stood up, out of his chair. He'd seen her. She'd spoken to him, not as he remembered, but as she must have been after the Score went down. That was no memory. But what did it mean? She'd told him things, called him names they only shared among themselves, and dragged him out of the dream back to what was presumably the waking world. She's also told him that they needed him. His crew needed him. The realization ran through him like a current, and the captain scrambled out of his chair to check on the bridge crew. Lydia and J'son were up with him right now, and both were soundly asleep. Neither responded to his prodding, other than a few mumbles, and deep concern blossomed in the captain. How could he wake them up? Somehow he'd gotten them into this mess, he had to get them out. He went to check on the ship's systems, and found that the Aria was grounded for the time being, the Exalta crystals that powered her flight apparently stolen. The captain scratched his head in thought. What to do?

Edited by Prestississimo
I'm too tired to proofread this. Hopefully it's fine.

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J'son knew that what he was seeing was impossible. Even if this was one of the power stations that drew on another dimension to supply its power, it couldn't possibly have a person inside it. Even if the person had come from another dimension, the concentration of energy would have been more than enough to kill them. Yet, despite the fact that this was not a dimensional power plant and that even if it was, it would have been impossible, there was a woman there. Oddly, none of the technicians were reacting to the presence of the woman despite her impossibility. They simply went about their jobs as normal. Suddenly, the woman turned and looked directly at J'son. Panicking somewhat, he backed up down the vent. The next thing he knew the woman was floating in an impossible speed, this was a day for possibilities, towards him through the air. Still none of the technicians reacted. Suddenly, she spoke. "Why this memory?" she said. "All the others are trapped in places of significance. You're just a child? Why is this day so important to you?"

"I, I don't understand," responded J'son. While the oppressive sense of deja vu had lifted it had been replaced by a nearly as disturbing sense of wrongness. 

"Remember," the woman responded as she touched him on the forehead, "Remember and wake."

Suddenly a life, his life, flashed before the eyes of a young J'son. memories, beginning with how this day was supposed to have gone, flowed through his mind. Suddenly, he woke up, returned to consciousness in the Aria.

 

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While Lydia was trap in a dream state, her body was laying on the floor of the main deck where she would regularly making sure Duke stayed on course to whatever destination they were heading towards. It appeared she slept so deeply that there was really nothing on the outside could do to wake her, not even a bucket full of the coldest water would stir her from this induced sleep.

Meanwhile inside her dreams, Lydia was reliving one of the worst days of her life. Everyone had been called to duty, manning the ships was top priority. Taking to flight they were to meet the enemies head on in this battle, but as they were preparing for lift off the plans fell through.

As Lydia was about to follow Aiden on to the air ship the attack had begun on them, fire rained from the skies as other ships had been blown out of them. Another of their comrades were taken down from the sky landing into the ship she herself was about to board. Being knocked back from the ramp that lead up into the ship, Lydia would push herself up into a sitting position. Grasping the side of her head with the head ache returning, she would look forward to her now burning ship. Screaming out in pain, she would pull herself up to run towards the ship that now burned with another. Men and women could heard screaming, orders and pain leaving the lips of those who stood still.

Digging through the rubble of the ship that didn’t burn, she searched for Aiden. “Lydia..” Hearing her name she would turn to see Aiden standing behind her mangled in ways that would make it impossible for him to be standing. Staring into what were his eyes, now black hollow pits she would let out a cry. Tears made trails down her dirt covered face, as she stared at something she clearly didn’t remember right.

“Aiden! This isn’t how it was! Why? How?” The confusion pulsed through her head like the migraine that threatened to make her pass out, the pain was sharp and stabbing. “Your dead.. this isn’t what happened, I didn’t find you like this..”

A woman came up behind Aiden, stabbing her hand through the gaping wound that laid in his gut. She would let out a laugh that was more cackle and scream, her voice unnatural. Standing from the rubble, Lydia would release her side arm from its holster on her belt. “You! “ Anger rolled off her like the heat of a lycanthrope. “This isn’t how I remember this, you are altering my memories.. This isn’t real!!” Screaming the last of her statement, she would unload a clip into the woman who just turned into dust along with Aiden.

The airship behind Lydia exploded sending all of the rubble and debris into her body, sending her to be buried along with whatever else was conjured in this reality. Screaming and digging, Lydia would wake from a state of shock that wasn’t reality. Gasping and coughing, Lydia screamed her way out of the dream world with tears kissing her cheeks. Sitting up with one fluid motion, she would feel the mess of her red locks fall back behind her shoulders. Fighting to catch her breath from being buried in her dream, she would stare down at the floor as the hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

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The awakenings occurred in sequence, first J'son recovered his consciousness, then Lydia. As far as Cecil could tell, J'son looked more confused than anything else, though Cecil admittedly had some difficulty reading the expressions of his second-in-command even on a good day. The captain stooped down to check on the lizardman, and was pleased to discover that J'son appeared generally alright, considering. He was, however, startled out of his ministrations by Lydia's how of anguish.

He turned to face the navigator, who was sitting bolt upright with her head down. She made heaving breaths, and Cecil went over to her, concerned after her. She looked similar to how Cecil felt, and probably looked though he hadn't had a chance to check. The screaming and the tears were familiar to him, and he gave her a moment to collect herself before setting down next to her to make sure she was alright. She seemed fine, if a bit distracted, so he stood back up and walked over to the ladder leading down out of the bridge. He looked down it, but there wasn't really anything to see except the floor below.

From there, Cecil climbed the ladder up, instead of down, into the crow's nest, but found it empty, it's usual occupant unaccounted for. Cecil couldn't remember if there was a reason for Claire's absence, though the nightmare was still playing hell with his memory so he wasn't sure that meant much.

These tasks accomplished, Cecil rejoined his crew members, who mostly seemed to have pulled themselves together. No one was in top shape, but everyone was conscious, which was a start. He looked to each of them in turn, making sure he had their attention, before starting off the conversation with a question. "Does either of you know what the hell happened? You two were asleep, and I couldn't wake you up. I'm pretty sure I was in much the same condition before I awoke just now." He showed both of them his magi-tech watch, though he had to suppress a shudder when he saw it's face. It was the same one from his dream. A gift he couldn't dare to part with.

He kept talking to cover the awkward moment. "I think we've lost about fourteen hours, by my count, and the ship's Exalta crystals are missing. I'm not afraid to admit I'm a bit confused here."

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J'son said, his voice still sounding slightly sluggish from sleep, "I agree with your assessment of the lost time, and the loss of our power supply is troubling. I recommend we search the ship as speedily as possible, both for our missing crystals and our seemingly absent crew." As he spoke his sluggishness began to fade. He stood up, stretched, yawned a few time an just generally did what he could to finish waking up."I also recommend we search together as we still don't know who or what we are dealing with. What forced us to sleep? What woke us up?  both mysteries we will have to solve." As he finished recommending, he pulled out his magitech sword and began the process of making sure it was fully operational. He had a feeling he would need it.

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With Cecil coming to check on her for a moment, then walking away. Lydia wiped her cheeks on her sleeves with one fluid motion, then she rolled to her knees to stand up. Sucking in a deep breath of air, she would move to the navigator’s seat.

“That was a hell of a ride in the past, but the guest who invited herself to torment me will pay.” Touching the two guns with both of her hands, making sure their holsters were still snug on her legs reassured her. Even though Lydia was a navigator, she was one hell of a fighter when it came down to messy situations.

Shaking her head for a moment, she would look up to her captain. “I have no idea what the hell just happened to us, all I remember is setting a course with Duke and then nothing..” Closing her eyes and hanging her head, her hands moving to massage the temple of her head. It was blank, everything she tried just conjured darkness and the past she was reliving.

With the exalta crystals missing alongside the crew, it meant shit was about to hit the fan or had it already? Standing up from the chair, she would walk over to stand next to J’son. “With the Aria being grounded and our power source missing along with our crew, I couldn’t say what we would up against..”

Reaching for the tablet she often used to look over the specs of the ship and other tasks, she realized it was laying on her station. Moving over to pick it up, she realized it would do her no good to look over everything. “I say we investigate the ship, and maybe where we are grounded..”

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The analysis from J'son and Lydia matched up with his own, and it seemed as if they were in agreement about the best course of action as well. Cecil checked his magi-tech sidearm, and was pleased to find the sidearm loaded and ready for action. He set the weapon back in its holster, and walked over to the ladder leading down into the First Main Passageway. He knelt down to peer into the gloom, but the hallway was almost entirely unlit, illuminated only by the same dim sunlight that was streaming into the bridge. There weren't a lot of port holes on the Aria, and what visibility there was ended up being wholly inadequate. He stood up from his kneeling position, and walked over to the emergency kit stowed on the wall of the bridge. He opened it up and tossed a couple of light wands to his officers, before grabbing one for himself.

The captain walked back over to the ladder and activated the wand. A small ball of light formed at the tip of the enchanted item, lighting up the bridge. Cecil dropped the wand down to the deck below, and once again looked around through the passageway. Nothing moved, and the passageway looked empty. "I'm going down," Cecil told his officers in a hushed voice, before putting words to action. The captain took a few quick steps down the ladder before jumping down and landing with an audible clang. Cecil was up in a moment, hand on his holstered weapon and eyes sweeping his surroundings. Nothing stirred.

After several moments, Cecil beckoned for J'son and Lydia to follow him down. He knelt to pick up the wand, and then cleared the way for his compatriots. The captain pulled out his sidearm once again as the pair joined him in the passageway. "Let's clear room by room. We can start in the back with my and J'son's quarters and then move forward through the ship."

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"Might I suggest that I take point captain? My weapon of choice is only effective in close range and you can always shoot over my shoulder. In addition, it may be that my unique abilities will be able to warn me of and approaching danger. Admittedly it is not certain, whether a phantasm or spirit will show up on my internal radar has always been iffy at best, but it is better than nothing." As he was giving this last piece of advice, for now anyways, he finished checking his weapon, sheathed it and began to expand his senses, looking for the energy he would need to power his device.

Spoiler

@Prestississimo As the story teller you have the option to decide what, if anything, he senses. You don't have to, I can do it after all, but i don't want to run over the story you wish to tell. 

 

Edited by Slank44

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