VoidTrecker Express Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
voidtreckermods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middleofsomewhere2021-09-11 10:10 am
voidtreckermods) wrote in middleofsomewhere2021-09-11 10:10 am
Nope, the train didn't provide those. [Masumi is staring at the mist enshrouded craft with a wary look in her eyes, aware that it's probably not a good idea to breathe it.
But they can't just ignore the crash either, and if no one brought anything to protect themselves, then...]
...If no one has any way to protect us from the mist, then I suppose we should do our best to investigate around it. It wouldn't be ideal, but I can at least try and bring the dead out of that cloud to make things a bit easier.
[She wouldn't normally move a body, but safety is important.]
But they can't just ignore the crash either, and if no one brought anything to protect themselves, then...]
...If no one has any way to protect us from the mist, then I suppose we should do our best to investigate around it. It wouldn't be ideal, but I can at least try and bring the dead out of that cloud to make things a bit easier.
[She wouldn't normally move a body, but safety is important.]
"Ah...." Ah. Well, he'll keep his hands in plain view, looking around as the Sali walk and surround them. "It's true- we came to help...but if we're intruding on anything, we're sorry. We don't have any maps....or...well. We don't know a lot at all actually. We just heard that there was trouble, with birds and storms."
A pause, and with a nervous smile. "Um... ...My name's Emporio?" he tries, introducing himself alongside Jake. "...It's...nice to meet you?" Probably?? Maybe..?
He can't stop himself from looking anxiously at the arrowheads. Those would...well. Kill him! Definitely!
A pause, and with a nervous smile. "Um... ...My name's Emporio?" he tries, introducing himself alongside Jake. "...It's...nice to meet you?" Probably?? Maybe..?
He can't stop himself from looking anxiously at the arrowheads. Those would...well. Kill him! Definitely!
Well, I don't actually need to breathe all the time? I could give it a try?
That's...handy. You go take a look in there. We'll piece together what we can from out here.
Vegeta was starting to wonder if there had been any point to this location. The 'path' to it had been a rough one for most, those traps were clearly trying to stop anyone from getting up here, as upon reaching the summit he was confused to find so little there that appeared to be worth their time. While he did spy something within that lake it didn't stand out as immediately helpful to them being at this location. And he also didn't like the look of that red mist, whatever it was. Then again, maybe it was just something natural to this world and meant nothing. He'll glance back to Bulma, checking she was alright after that scramble through and around those traps leading up to the lake, as well as others of the Orange Team sent to this location.
Bulma… is fine, if a little sweaty and doing much more of a workout than she has been accustomed to for years now. This whole no flight thing was a real kick in the teeth if she’s perfectly honest, or perhaps she’s far too used to using Vegeta and or Trunks as a taxi service where needed.
At any rate, she’s wiping the sweat from her brow with a quick outward puff of air, taking a moment to look around. This place is surprisingly expansive, from Bulma’s perspective, compared to other worlds they’ve been to, so It only makes sense to take it all in. Particularly with all of these scenic plants to check out. The half-submerged ship of course catches her eye, and she calls ahead predictably to her husband :
“Vegeta! We should check out the ship!”
… Of course, there is that red mist to contend with, but.. well. The grand plan is obviously accessing the ship.
Bulma… is fine, if a little sweaty and doing much more of a workout than she has been accustomed to for years now. This whole no flight thing was a real kick in the teeth if she’s perfectly honest, or perhaps she’s far too used to using Vegeta and or Trunks as a taxi service where needed.
At any rate, she’s wiping the sweat from her brow with a quick outward puff of air, taking a moment to look around. This place is surprisingly expansive, from Bulma’s perspective, compared to other worlds they’ve been to, so It only makes sense to take it all in. Particularly with all of these scenic plants to check out. The half-submerged ship of course catches her eye, and she calls ahead predictably to her husband :
“Vegeta! We should check out the ship!”
… Of course, there is that red mist to contend with, but.. well. The grand plan is obviously accessing the ship.
( Bulma and Vegeta will both be replying here, though maybe not in any certain order! )
Can do!
[Danny tosses off a quick salute, then transforms into his ghost form. He couldn't actually use any of his powers like this, but at least this way he could still be useful. ]
[Danny tosses off a quick salute, then transforms into his ghost form. He couldn't actually use any of his powers like this, but at least this way he could still be useful. ]
Its not eternal screaming, so good sign for the statue.
She will reach out, putting a hand on the status in turn. "Kind of limited, huh? Hmm, I wonder...."
And with rings of white light, she'll transform, see if being an energy being will make it easier to hear.
Which....ain't a great feeling on this planet. Welp. That's good to know.
"How about you try now?"
She will reach out, putting a hand on the status in turn. "Kind of limited, huh? Hmm, I wonder...."
And with rings of white light, she'll transform, see if being an energy being will make it easier to hear.
Which....ain't a great feeling on this planet. Welp. That's good to know.
"How about you try now?"
Wei Wuxian ducks down to nab the bow from where it falls, "No killing!" his call back to Yondu and the youth stuck in a difficult situation. "Which one? I've got three!"
Three Lan Zhans at present, a veritably chaotic grouping he has zero responsibility for.
He darts sideways into the taller grasses they've yet to stomp through as the ground turns into a field of questing vines with their thorns, trailed by at least some of those vines that thrash into grasses, narrowly missing him at one, no, two junctures.
He'd yelp, but there's no point, not when he needs to incapacitate this person to some extent, before the ones he keeps calling to join in on finding and "handling" the trespassers. His aim is to use speed and his physical agility to get around and through to knocking the attacker out; though he'll be vulnerable to any thorned vines in the moment of making contact. One hand on the neck of the sali and he can hope their pressure points are something similar to human, or else this is going to be a good old fashion knocking out.
Not to mention, a good old fashioned holding off a vine by borrowed bow, and scoring the cuts such an attack inevitably brings, unflinching, where he cannot evade them all.
Three Lan Zhans at present, a veritably chaotic grouping he has zero responsibility for.
He darts sideways into the taller grasses they've yet to stomp through as the ground turns into a field of questing vines with their thorns, trailed by at least some of those vines that thrash into grasses, narrowly missing him at one, no, two junctures.
He'd yelp, but there's no point, not when he needs to incapacitate this person to some extent, before the ones he keeps calling to join in on finding and "handling" the trespassers. His aim is to use speed and his physical agility to get around and through to knocking the attacker out; though he'll be vulnerable to any thorned vines in the moment of making contact. One hand on the neck of the sali and he can hope their pressure points are something similar to human, or else this is going to be a good old fashion knocking out.
Not to mention, a good old fashioned holding off a vine by borrowed bow, and scoring the cuts such an attack inevitably brings, unflinching, where he cannot evade them all.
Time to teach a statue two warm bursts for yes, one warm burst for no. Or, as what happens when he watches the talisman, noting the way that similar and different butterflies of light emerge.
Then they're gone, just as abruptly, with his own qi mingling in. He hums, thinking over that, before the statue reclaims his attention.
"Closer, and clearly you can imitate what I'm doing," he says, but he doesn't fail to return and crouch down again, pressing his oddly tickled hands down onto the statue's open palms once more.
"I'm starting to wonder if we need to join energies each time for things to take form here. We should have some way of trying to speak when I don't hear you unless you want me to start playing for you. Music carries emotion better for me," he says, watching the statue with curious eyes. "One bloom of warmth for a no, two blooms in succession for yes?"
Then they're gone, just as abruptly, with his own qi mingling in. He hums, thinking over that, before the statue reclaims his attention.
"Closer, and clearly you can imitate what I'm doing," he says, but he doesn't fail to return and crouch down again, pressing his oddly tickled hands down onto the statue's open palms once more.
"I'm starting to wonder if we need to join energies each time for things to take form here. We should have some way of trying to speak when I don't hear you unless you want me to start playing for you. Music carries emotion better for me," he says, watching the statue with curious eyes. "One bloom of warmth for a no, two blooms in succession for yes?"
Oh, he hates this. Whatever the older sali's issue is, he doesn't seem to be listening to anything anyone else has to say - he's just attacking. It's shades of home, in the worst way possible.
But Ryo isn't helpless here. He draws a knife from his satchel - because the wind won't respond to him here, but that doesn't mean he can't defend himself - and moves to put himself between the older sali and the younger one, glancing over his shoulder at her. "If there's a safe way out of here, take it." He's inclined to believe the child being attacked over the adult doing the attacking; hopefully that belief is well-placed and she's not about to stab him in the back.
His gaze flickers back to Jingyi, then at the older sali. Hopefully Jingyi is ready to fight, because it's looking like they'll need to. Hopefully they can handle whatever the older sali throws at them. Hopefully.
But Ryo isn't helpless here. He draws a knife from his satchel - because the wind won't respond to him here, but that doesn't mean he can't defend himself - and moves to put himself between the older sali and the younger one, glancing over his shoulder at her. "If there's a safe way out of here, take it." He's inclined to believe the child being attacked over the adult doing the attacking; hopefully that belief is well-placed and she's not about to stab him in the back.
His gaze flickers back to Jingyi, then at the older sali. Hopefully Jingyi is ready to fight, because it's looking like they'll need to. Hopefully they can handle whatever the older sali throws at them. Hopefully.
It wouldn't be safe under these conditions to help Takechirou, so lucky for the crow of the moment that they don't attempt to. But as Kiyoiri sets her hands on the statue, there is a light pulse of warmth, a dim glow, the sensation of prickling with it under her palms, but light. A side effect, that comes and goes.
Do your thing, bird friend. Let's see your horns.
Do your thing, bird friend. Let's see your horns.
Unsure. It comes after a pause, the feeling closer to confused, as if the question isn't quite understood. At least lighter in discomfort.
Then, there's a flash to the bridges, a view of them that shows them whole. Except, the discomfort prickles deeper with that visual, and even the statue must be aware of it, pulling it back, distancing from the line.
The faint remains of an apology quietly given.
Then, there's a flash to the bridges, a view of them that shows them whole. Except, the discomfort prickles deeper with that visual, and even the statue must be aware of it, pulling it back, distancing from the line.
The faint remains of an apology quietly given.
"How long have they been attacking like this?"
Sword drawn, Jingyi stays where he is in front, shifting again to be able to cover Ryo while leaving him a line of attack open. The question is aimed for the youth here, dodging arrows like someone who possibly does so for fun, or is being aimed at by someone not actually attempting to hit them.
Guess which one Jingyi's been guilty of in the past.
He waits, but also: drat. He's going to have to talk at the guy holding them at arrowpoint.
"Sir! Attacking one of your own as an intruder seems a little short on good will, huh? Stop shooting!"
He doubts he's going to be listened, but the point is he said it.
Sword drawn, Jingyi stays where he is in front, shifting again to be able to cover Ryo while leaving him a line of attack open. The question is aimed for the youth here, dodging arrows like someone who possibly does so for fun, or is being aimed at by someone not actually attempting to hit them.
Guess which one Jingyi's been guilty of in the past.
He waits, but also: drat. He's going to have to talk at the guy holding them at arrowpoint.
"Sir! Attacking one of your own as an intruder seems a little short on good will, huh? Stop shooting!"
He doubts he's going to be listened, but the point is he said it.
So it does, the energy reaching out, attempting to make a link. Not forceful, not even enclosing around her - but with her more exposed form, and an energy trying to connect to hers -
Razzy will find that yes, the energy melds with hers, but then starts to distort it; trying to push and break it apart, while also leeching at it, splitting it to make it easier to absorb.
Whether Razzy breaks the contact, so does the energy from the statue withdraw.
Razzy will find that yes, the energy melds with hers, but then starts to distort it; trying to push and break it apart, while also leeching at it, splitting it to make it easier to absorb.
Whether Razzy breaks the contact, so does the energy from the statue withdraw.
Ah, yes, leave it to a tired twenty-one year old to navigate a delicate contact situation. He's known for never putting his foot in his mouth!
(He started with his best foot forward, okay, he said nice horns.)
"Don't shoot anything I have to dodge, I promise, and I'll stop moving! We've come in on the central island, some of our people were speaking with a statue there? About the red disease that came in with the flying creatures, how it's hurting this place and doing things to people's heads."
Yes. Let Lan Jingyi handle this, everyone else probably in this party.
"Do you... have statutes that need energy? Can you connect with the one on the central island again?"
(He started with his best foot forward, okay, he said nice horns.)
"Don't shoot anything I have to dodge, I promise, and I'll stop moving! We've come in on the central island, some of our people were speaking with a statue there? About the red disease that came in with the flying creatures, how it's hurting this place and doing things to people's heads."
Yes. Let Lan Jingyi handle this, everyone else probably in this party.
"Do you... have statutes that need energy? Can you connect with the one on the central island again?"
Edited (to update with better intel he would have listened to, sobs) 2021-09-13 18:15 (UTC)
Wei Wuxian's answer doesn't come exactly in the way instructed; there's a warmth given to both hands, light, and then - he will feel another type of sensation. One of an energy in his mind, over a mental link. Led in at their hands, but an energy trying not to mingle, and energy attempting to imitate his own.
It's not too comfortable, and it's exhausted around the edges. But through emotion, the statue can speak. Feelings - fortunately, feelings are easy to translate.
Experiment. Complicated. Time. But there too lingers a worry, a concern, and the discomfort finds place to grow when, so does emotion. Worry. Home.
The islands, everything - this is what home means.
The colour red isn't visual, but Wei's mind may feel in the pieces. The sound of flapping wings. A pain. Disagreeable energies seeping in where they shouldn't. Filling up one's body, clouding the mind.
The experiences are shared, but only the knowledge; there's no pain forced here, only the unfortunate discomfort that still comes with the link. One that presses more as the concentration taken to imitate Wei Wuxian's energy wanes.
A few seconds of exhaustion, a pause of someone who wants to continue to speak, but draws back on the link.
It's not too comfortable, and it's exhausted around the edges. But through emotion, the statue can speak. Feelings - fortunately, feelings are easy to translate.
Experiment. Complicated. Time. But there too lingers a worry, a concern, and the discomfort finds place to grow when, so does emotion. Worry. Home.
The islands, everything - this is what home means.
The colour red isn't visual, but Wei's mind may feel in the pieces. The sound of flapping wings. A pain. Disagreeable energies seeping in where they shouldn't. Filling up one's body, clouding the mind.
The experiences are shared, but only the knowledge; there's no pain forced here, only the unfortunate discomfort that still comes with the link. One that presses more as the concentration taken to imitate Wei Wuxian's energy wanes.
A few seconds of exhaustion, a pause of someone who wants to continue to speak, but draws back on the link.
With their hands to one another, Elidibus's energy has no chance to escape. It is drawn into the statue, contained. There's a pause, as if the statue waits to see if Elidibus will grant the flow of energy by his own terms; but, the being of the statue will also draw in the aether itself if Elidibus doesn't, at a slow and steady rate. A gradual transfer to take about ten to fifteen seconds, and whoever pushes, pulls, the statue will bring it to an end.
Briefly, gratitude pulses, still prickly a feeling to receive. Study, it leaves with, before pulling back the connection.
And with Elidibus being at the very least experienced with his own energy, he will be able to sense it within the statue; not eaten up and melded with the energies of the being, but kept in place. It may not stay the same amount, but there...something attempted to be done with it.
Briefly, gratitude pulses, still prickly a feeling to receive. Study, it leaves with, before pulling back the connection.
And with Elidibus being at the very least experienced with his own energy, he will be able to sense it within the statue; not eaten up and melded with the energies of the being, but kept in place. It may not stay the same amount, but there...something attempted to be done with it.
Once determining the energy will not leak to where it's not wanted, Elidibus channels it to the presence at a steady pace. While watchful, he is calm and more interested to see where this is going than suspicious.
"You're welcome," he answers to the feeling of gratitude, as if their conversation methods matched. The Ascian then furrows his brow and becomes alert. 'Study' is it?
For the moment his hands drop back to his sides and he does indeed watch to learn through the familiar presence of his donated aether and the manipulation it undergoes.
"You're welcome," he answers to the feeling of gratitude, as if their conversation methods matched. The Ascian then furrows his brow and becomes alert. 'Study' is it?
For the moment his hands drop back to his sides and he does indeed watch to learn through the familiar presence of his donated aether and the manipulation it undergoes.
It will take time, the statue falling silent, not reaching out to Elidibus to try to engage. The energy being moved around, carefully split. Studied, as implied. Is he a patient person? Is he happy to wait here and witness the process for, say, ten minutes or so?
He can speak up, of course. Or, allow the being to do its thing.
He can speak up, of course. Or, allow the being to do its thing.
To say Haneul has not been at his best since they arrived here is probably putting it mildly. The light and sound he's constantly absorbing doesn't feel right; he's doing his best to adjust to it, but it's not going well at all, and that's not even getting into the fact that his powers are all off and every time he tries to scan anything at all it makes his head spin.
Still, he's not so out of it that he doesn't notice the spiritual weirdness centered on the statue - and even if he hadn't, Lucy certain would have. He's just not really sure what to do about it. The soothing feeling it seems to be emanating is nice, though, even if he's not quite sure it's safe to trust it (granted, Haneul has trust issues in general, and even if he didn't, Lucy certainly does).
Still, he's not so out of it that he doesn't notice the spiritual weirdness centered on the statue - and even if he hadn't, Lucy certain would have. He's just not really sure what to do about it. The soothing feeling it seems to be emanating is nice, though, even if he's not quite sure it's safe to trust it (granted, Haneul has trust issues in general, and even if he didn't, Lucy certainly does).
He'd mutter about a serviceable idea being useless if he wasn't more impressed by the press of emotions when they eventually come, let alone the associations that tie in with it all. He frowns, closing his eyes to better focus, and while red isn't the colour in specific, red is the colour of hurt, and pain, and things wrong, just as it's the sign of passion, of fire, of other things in his lifetime.
A preferred colour for him even now, tied into his hair, and visible nowhere else.
Concern for a home, and a hurt alongside it. He almost wishes he could share that pain, and some sense of that emotion might transfer back; pain is not something that stops him, embraced and endured and accepted as it is. However, as his eyes open, as the energy from the statue wanes, he considers its features.
"We're here to help with that pain. The red one?" He pauses, considers. "I wonder if it came from below... but the islands, North, West, South. The flying things, they help bring these bad energies here?"
To be fair, he doesn't expect to have answers in words, but it's one way for him to voice things in return, and to try, to some extent, to again offer from what energy he has to the statue. Not much, he's too aware of his limits, but something else offered freely.
A preferred colour for him even now, tied into his hair, and visible nowhere else.
Concern for a home, and a hurt alongside it. He almost wishes he could share that pain, and some sense of that emotion might transfer back; pain is not something that stops him, embraced and endured and accepted as it is. However, as his eyes open, as the energy from the statue wanes, he considers its features.
"We're here to help with that pain. The red one?" He pauses, considers. "I wonder if it came from below... but the islands, North, West, South. The flying things, they help bring these bad energies here?"
To be fair, he doesn't expect to have answers in words, but it's one way for him to voice things in return, and to try, to some extent, to again offer from what energy he has to the statue. Not much, he's too aware of his limits, but something else offered freely.
"Yeah, yeah! You feel it, right?"
He makes a gesture, unaware that his proximity might be sickening for someone in any other way than the usual. His general existence as a zombie seems to do him absolutely no favors in the way of socializing, but usually that's the worst of it.
"It's horns did something, too. They did this shimmery... thing. Usually when I run into this kind of thing it's someone stuck, like they can't get out of their situation." Conclusions, not necessarily correct, that he can't help but draw.
He closes his eyes and, unknown to him that they're limited as they are, he tries to psychically reach towards the statue. Listening to see if he can pick up any definable thoughts. Also with the general mood of, You okay in there?
He makes a gesture, unaware that his proximity might be sickening for someone in any other way than the usual. His general existence as a zombie seems to do him absolutely no favors in the way of socializing, but usually that's the worst of it.
"It's horns did something, too. They did this shimmery... thing. Usually when I run into this kind of thing it's someone stuck, like they can't get out of their situation." Conclusions, not necessarily correct, that he can't help but draw.
He closes his eyes and, unknown to him that they're limited as they are, he tries to psychically reach towards the statue. Listening to see if he can pick up any definable thoughts. Also with the general mood of, You okay in there?
It's been a while, and the statue has made a few communications with others. It doesn't make them aware of what people prefer, or how to reach out, or interact. Without a voice, not one that can reach the outsiders, it's a difficult question of what to do. If to engage.
But as Haneul contemplates, the air - while generally chilly - does warm in his vincinity. A comfortable warmth, similar to the sun before fire. A gentle companion to the emitting ease. A spell similar to spices, of dried flowers lingering, and then gone.
But as Haneul contemplates, the air - while generally chilly - does warm in his vincinity. A comfortable warmth, similar to the sun before fire. A gentle companion to the emitting ease. A spell similar to spices, of dried flowers lingering, and then gone.
He may not receive answers for words, but for this time, he receives an answer by his idea: a warmth under his palms. Once. Twice. Then gently, or just tiredly, is shared another feeling in his mind: something trying to seep in, to confuse, to rattle minds. Thrashing, trying to consume.
A memory, one that eases way, and a small beat of gratitude is given before apology. A memory; it's easier to recall than to formulate impressions, and that's what the statue does: it shows to Wei Wuxian a memory, one that can't weave and imitate his energy as it would prefer, but still, it does its best to polish it.
So there's a discomfort, a shudder to go through his body, like a force attempting to take a seat in place of where Wei Wuxian's existence sits, cramped in a tight space.
But for it:
The land awakens its eyes, the span of its vision entirety, everywhere. Enshala has called from the South. Danger, watch out. A red sky, coming with the wings of many, carrying this new sky with them. You attempt to grant Enshala power, but the connection snaps.
Mamali, Omerka. You try to call them. Inji, Rosha. You call, but the East does not reply. You know the storm is coming for you, and there is panic in your heart. But you must not waver. This is your home. You must protect it, you must warn your heart to the West.
Shrinlo, you call out, linked to the heart amongst the trees of steel, mountains of stone. Shrinlo, call the people. Watch out. Beware. Danger. You cannot linger for details you do not know, cutting the communication, gathering yourself.
The red storm draws nearer, and before it even reaches, you feel its tendrils. Claws, attempting to dig in.
You will not let it. You will fight back.
The imagery dies away, fading to the darkness of one's mind usually is. The whisper of an apology left with it. Even with the energy given, there is the weariness, a struggle remembered in the memories, an exhaustion attempted to keep down.
A memory, one that eases way, and a small beat of gratitude is given before apology. A memory; it's easier to recall than to formulate impressions, and that's what the statue does: it shows to Wei Wuxian a memory, one that can't weave and imitate his energy as it would prefer, but still, it does its best to polish it.
So there's a discomfort, a shudder to go through his body, like a force attempting to take a seat in place of where Wei Wuxian's existence sits, cramped in a tight space.
But for it:
The land awakens its eyes, the span of its vision entirety, everywhere. Enshala has called from the South. Danger, watch out. A red sky, coming with the wings of many, carrying this new sky with them. You attempt to grant Enshala power, but the connection snaps.
Mamali, Omerka. You try to call them. Inji, Rosha. You call, but the East does not reply. You know the storm is coming for you, and there is panic in your heart. But you must not waver. This is your home. You must protect it, you must warn your heart to the West.
Shrinlo, you call out, linked to the heart amongst the trees of steel, mountains of stone. Shrinlo, call the people. Watch out. Beware. Danger. You cannot linger for details you do not know, cutting the communication, gathering yourself.
The red storm draws nearer, and before it even reaches, you feel its tendrils. Claws, attempting to dig in.
You will not let it. You will fight back.
The imagery dies away, fading to the darkness of one's mind usually is. The whisper of an apology left with it. Even with the energy given, there is the weariness, a struggle remembered in the memories, an exhaustion attempted to keep down.
It occurred to Elidibus that by 'study', the statue may have wanted to study rather than be studied at its work. But interrupting to ask for clarification didn't hold as much value as waiting and learning what he could by watching the task. The statue didn't seem to mind.
And given the reaction of this world's aether, any hint on how to work with it would be priceless. Even now the ambient air seemed to tug at the Ascian's senses. Easily ignored thanks to his vessel and the SCA but not completely disregarded.
As for patience, Elidibus can wait a mere handful of minutes. He is no youth in the spring of life, but an immortal who has dedicated more than twelve thousand years toward the task of restoring his world.
Even if he learns nothing immediately though, it is worth finding out what the statue ends up doing with that energy.
And given the reaction of this world's aether, any hint on how to work with it would be priceless. Even now the ambient air seemed to tug at the Ascian's senses. Easily ignored thanks to his vessel and the SCA but not completely disregarded.
As for patience, Elidibus can wait a mere handful of minutes. He is no youth in the spring of life, but an immortal who has dedicated more than twelve thousand years toward the task of restoring his world.
Even if he learns nothing immediately though, it is worth finding out what the statue ends up doing with that energy.
Edited 2021-09-13 11:15 (UTC)
Page 4 of 17