[ Brickston's sense of time was terribly skewed this month. Lost in the throes of his Katalyth studies for hours and days it was no wonder he'd eventually crash and sleep whether he wanted to or not. The dreams were anything but restful, however. He saw horrible images of fellow Augmented in cages—kidnapped, tortured, put on display. He saw Momo, possibly others, but it served to greatly reconsider his opinions on Patho-Gen. He was terribly conflicted... but then additionally there was a message from something else, a request accompanied by flashes of images of the rotting furious Terra-types below Kelesis.
"Don't let Karteria take any more away. End them here, where they belong."
It wouldn't be the first time he discovered a message in the tunnels that left Brickston terribly guilt-ridden. Back then he walked away not knowing what more he could possibly do.
Now it's clear. ] They're down here suffering, Felwinter.
[ He just knew he couldn't possibly do it alone. He shuffles along Felwinter's side in the dark, able to see without need of lantern or light. The smell down here is still foul, the air still stagnant and reeks of death. He keeps stepping forward, almost drawn to the dark concrete room with the lone broken computer terminal in the middle of it, once again. Plants shuffle and groan and wetly slither in the dark, anticipating something.
Brickston understands if they're killed that will lessen Karteria's food supply, but, perhaps uncharacteristically callously he finds himself less concerned about foods he can't eat anyway. The latter half of his thoughts breach his mouth, muttered; ] ...what makes one life-form more valuable than the other...?
backdated mid-late October [action]
"Don't let Karteria take any more away. End them here, where they belong."
It wouldn't be the first time he discovered a message in the tunnels that left Brickston terribly guilt-ridden. Back then he walked away not knowing what more he could possibly do.
Now it's clear. ] They're down here suffering, Felwinter.
[ He just knew he couldn't possibly do it alone. He shuffles along Felwinter's side in the dark, able to see without need of lantern or light. The smell down here is still foul, the air still stagnant and reeks of death. He keeps stepping forward, almost drawn to the dark concrete room with the lone broken computer terminal in the middle of it, once again. Plants shuffle and groan and wetly slither in the dark, anticipating something.
Brickston understands if they're killed that will lessen Karteria's food supply, but, perhaps uncharacteristically callously he finds himself less concerned about foods he can't eat anyway. The latter half of his thoughts breach his mouth, muttered; ] ...what makes one life-form more valuable than the other...?