You are the night-time fear
He wonders what one Ascended can do for another—he knows what the Voice can do for them, but can any one of the others learn her skills? Can they learn to create implants themselves? Brew their fluids? He muses over it as he slips in through the heavy doors behind her, peering around with unmasked curiosity. He thinks this building, or some previous iteration of it, stood even in his lifetime, but he can't say if he were ever in it before."Thank you," he says to her offer, letting his gaze roam. "I might take you up on that. And, of course, if you'll need some help to get it open again, I'd be glad to lend a hand." He doesn't know what it might entail, but helping her pick up the pieces of her lost life feels like the least he can do after leading her from death.
He's afraid of barraging her with too many questions, but he can't help himself as they drift through the Temple. "What happened?" and his voice, his eyes, his face, are those of one who does not mind the time it takes to listen to the full story.
As for himself... He supposes that from where she's standing it would be fascinating, but it was not the word he would use. Disorienting, more like it. Jarring. Terrifying. "You and me both," he responds gently, "Though I have no idea why it happened in the first place."
You are the morning when it's clear
AAMU
