He tried to loot the entire bookshelf but when he touched the heavy wooden frame, nothing happened. The usual codex pop-up notification detailing information about the type of wood used, the color, the company that manufactured it, and so on. Interesting, but not really helpful for his current objective.
He was still trying to figure out why only some objects caused a Codex screen to appear with detailed information whenever he touched something, but whenever he touched something while he was consciously thinking about, a screen would appear. His best guess was that it had to do with whatever his intention was, as well as if Vi thought the item was important enough to bring to his attention when he touched it.
By the end, he was able to just hold his arm out and run down the hall, dragging his hand across the books as she automatically looted the correct books. It kind of took most of the fun out of it, turning it into a menial task of labor. But it saved hours that he would have otherwise spent cross-referencing the titles. By the time they were done he had looted over five hundred books. A lot of them were academic books on various magical theories, history, and monsters. But a decent chunk of them were fictional stories, plays, and even some poetry.
“Most likely, but you never know. Besides, you can look up specific information from each book in a second. Technically, I don’t need to read it, I can just ask you.”
Vi huffed, causing Alex to grin.
“So, what now? There was another door back there, do we keep going? Other than the locked door upstairs, I don’t see another way out of here.”
The door that Alex was gesturing too suddenly opened and a man staggered through. The man had a pinched, tired look on his face and was muttering to himself. Alex slumped down in the couch he was lounging on, trying to hide behind the coffee table.
“... Should have recovered by now. Something must have been dragged through the interference... Damn you Markov, this was your stupid idea to begin with.”
The man had short black disheveled hair with dark bags under in eyes as if he had been up for days.
“It’s a simple summoning, Raymond. Any bronze rank can do it.” He muttered in a scathingly mocking tone.
Groggily, he trudged passed Alex without noticing him and started making his way to the spiral staircase. Alex took out the dagger he got from Katjav, the urges to either flee or run up to the man and stab him in the back before he noticed anything warred within. After hesitating for too long, Alex slid to the ground, cursing his cowardice as well as hoping he blended into the shadows.
“Kat?” The man called out.
Alex’s heart sank at the confusion in the man's voice but didn’t move.
The corpse was mostly obscured from sight behind the upturned furniture. Slowly, the man moved towards Katjav’s body, calling his name. Once there was a little more distance between them, Alex would sneak away and hide in the stacks of the library. He must have made some kind of noise though, because the new intruder whirled around and looked right at Alex as soon as he began to move away from the couch.
So much for blending. Was there even a stealth attribute?
Alex scrambled to his feet and dashed towards the man, but before he even closed half the distance something blasted into him from the side and he crashed into the wall, his head rebounding off the stone, ringing it like a bell. Black spots swam across his vision as he struggled to get back to his feet. Alex must have lost some time though, because the man was suddenly standing in front of him. “It was you!” He shouted, his face purple with rage.
Get up. Get up. Alex pushed himself up on his hands and knees, his arms quivering like jelly. A kick caught Alex in the stomach, the blow flipping him over and over until he landed hard on his back. Alex lay there stunned, gasping for breath as he coughed up flecks of blood. The man stepped up to Alex, placing a foot on his throat, pinning him to the ground.
“You’ll pay for that, filthy Outworlder!”
“Hey Raymond, would you believe me if I said I found him like that?” Alex asked, barely able to choke the words out due to the pressure of the man’s foot on his throat, as well as the fact that he couldn’t take a full breath. Alex tried to move and pain erupted from his abdomen.
Broken. His ribs were definitely broken.
“I’m not talking about Katjav, you little shit! You ruined my summoning! You...” Raymond narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “How do you know my name? Who are you? You are the outworlder, aren’t you?”
Not the sharpest tool in the shed, was he? The man had been loudly talking to himself when he barged into the library less than thirty seconds ago.
Alex opened his mouth to deliver a scathingly sarcastic quip, but pain erupted from his ribs again when he inhaled, and he settled for spitting a glob of bloody defiance on him. Well - at him, at least. Alex was unable to put any real strength behind the action. Most of the blood ran ineffectually down his chin; while only a few drops actually made it all the way to the boot currently pressed against his windpipe. Raymond lifted his foot and stomped viciously on Alex’s head.
Regardless of Alex’s enhanced strength and durability: the man was bronze rank and Alex just tempted a man who literally had him underfoot.
Who’s the stupid one here again?
Raymond continued to land kicks, but Alex didn’t even feel it: He was already unconscious.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Alex awoke with a groan.
“So, you're alive. Good for you.”
The voice was sarcastic, but seemingly good natured so Alex ignored it for now. He took a slow, steady breath and was surprised to find that he only had a dull ache in what he previously thought to be broken ribs. He ran a mental checklist on his injuries and although his entire body hurt – his headache being noticeably the worst – he still felt far better than he had any right to be.
Alex turned his attention to the immediate surroundings. Thankfully, he didn’t wake up naked again. But he was lying face down on a cold metal surface that looked more like a huge glass mirror than a metal floor. His face, currently pressed up against the cold surface was clearly visible, only the light from his prismatic eyes marred the image, coruscating lights distorting his reflection on the floor that was polished to such a degree that it had to be through magical means. The bars of his cell weren’t rusted through this time like the temporary holding cell he first found himself in. The bars were as thick as his fists, and polished just as brightly as the floor. Alex groaned again, his breath fogging the surface of the floor.
“Why do I keep waking up in unfamiliar places feeling like shit?”
A soft chuckle came from the man that spoke before, snatching Alex’s attention away from the voice in his own head. He knew that the voice that spoke earlier didn’t belong to Raymond. There was nothing of the rage and contempt that colored Raymond’s tone from back in the library, but it took a moment to realize that the voice was coming from inside the cell, not from the outside.
His cellmate was stripped down to a pair of breeches, a thick metal collar was around his neck, and he was caked in dirt smeared with sweat and blood. Despite his appearance, he seemed uninjured though. His white teeth and piercing blue eyes stood out brightly as he gave Alex a friendly smile.
“Usually that’s a sign to lay off the drink, my friend.”
“I’ll consider that a lesson learned.” Alex said hoarsely. “Remind me not to drink with strangers again.”
Judging by his voice, the other prisoner seemed to be around Alex’s age. It was hard to say otherwise though, with all the dried blood and dirt covering his body, and a massive, unkept beard obscuring most of his face.
Alex sat up and was surprised that he felt fine. He rubbed his side, sure that Raymond cracked a few ribs when he had kicked him. He wasn’t even sore.
“Good news; Raymond healed you up after he dumped you in here.” His cellmate said, noticing Alex’s confusion. “You’ve been out for almost an hour though.”
“Where’s he now?” Alex asked, looking around.
The room mirrored the layout of the cell he was in previously; except there were no bars separating the different cells here, and the long hallway looked more like a futuristic hospital compared to a medieval dungeon.
“And that’s the bad news.” He said apologetically. “He wants to know how you managed to interfere with the summoning, He said he was going to... ‘set things up’, and then come back for you.”
Fear gripped Alex and he stood up. He walked over to the bars and kicked it hard. They barely even rattled. Alex yelled and kicked the bars again and again. Strong hands grabbed his shoulders and tried to pull him back, but he shoved the man away.
“Back off.” Alex warned, his hands curling into fists.
“You need to stop. Raymond is a sadistic bastard, but he won’t dare kill you until Markov returns.” The man said, bringing his hands up to show he wasn’t a threat. Shackles identical to the collar he wore on his neck were around his wrists, though they were not binding his hands together like normal handcuffs. Alex squinted and he could see tiny strands of magic connecting from the collar to each bracelet.
“You can’t break through those bars, but if you do enough damage to them, the defensive magic in this room will activate and put us both down. I’m sorry, but you can’t break out of here. Not from this room.”
Alex swore and kicked the bars again in frustration. The man grabbed him again, pulling him away from the bars. Furious, Alex whirled around, grabbing his hand to twist it into a wrist lock. Surprisingly, the prisoner broke it almost immediately but didn’t follow up on the counter. Alex shoved him away, suddenly angry. Like before, he forgot about his enhanced strength and the prisoner literally flew backwards. The cell was easily more than ten feet deep, but the prisoner streaked through the air as though he weighted nothing more than a basketball. He hit the roughly hewn stone wall at the back of their prison cell with so much momentum that he actually stuck to it for a moment. His head rebounded off the uneven stone with a loud crack and he landed heavily on his ass when gravity finally decided to reassert control of him again.
Surprisingly, the prisoner was not only still alive; he was still conscious. His unfocused eyes were glazed over, and he was blinking rapidly as he checked the back of his head, his hands coming away bloody. Maybe it was the stress from everything Alex had endured recently, but something about the prisoner’s dazed, vulnerable expression triggered a predatory response in him. The display of strength made gave him a sense of control and power that he hasn’t felt since the first time he woke up naked in the forest.
Alex’s hands balled into fists, and he stalked towards the man who lifted his own bloody hands in surrender.
“Easy, Easy!” He yelled, lifting his leg up to ward off Alex in case he tried to attack him again.
Alex stopped, his chest heaving.
She was right. It wasn’t this man's fault he was in this cell; it was his. He did this. If he hadn’t killed Katjav. If he hadn’t stayed to steal all those books out of pettiness and a need for a distraction because he couldn’t keep his shit together, he might not have been captured by Raymond.
Gritting his teeth, Alex unclenched his fists, slowly bringing his hands up in an apologetic gesture.
“I- I’m sorry.” Alex said, holding out his hand to help the man up. “I shouldn’t have shoved you. You were just trying to stop me from doing something stupid, again.” He added the last word bitterly, almost to himself.
Cautiously, the man gripped his hand and Alex pulled him to his feet.
“My name is Alex.”
“Masterson.” The man said with a smile, accepting his apology. “Matthias Masterson.”
Alex dropped Matthias’s hand and raised an eyebrow.
“What?” He asked, still smiling as if Alex didn’t just throw him like a ragdoll. “My family is overly fond of alliteration. Feel free to can call me Matt, if you want.”
“It’s not that bad.” Alex said, crossing his arms over his chest. “In fact, there are a lot of stories where I come from. It usually means that someone is either a hero... or some kind of villain.”
Matt laughed, either not getting the insinuation or ignoring it.
“I am not your enemy here.”
Okay, maybe he did get it.
“I’m not trying to be rude here.” Alex said, lying. “But you seem awfully chipper for a man who is being tortured and held captive.”
The joy in Matt’s eyes died a little. He was still smiling, though it no longer reached his eyes.
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“Yeah, well. Let’s just say I’ve gone through worse. Plus, I’m a ‘look on the bright side’ kind of person.”
Matt gingerly touched the back of his head and winced. He didn’t appear to still be bleeding but he was going to have on hell of a headache if he didn’t already. Guilt rose up in Alex, but he pursed his lips and looked away, unwilling to apologize again. He really needed to be careful. If he couldn’t control himself, he was going to end up accidentally killing someone. Again.
“Gods, you’re strong. I take it you have an essence that gave you a strength power? I’m lucky that I am bronze rank, or I could have gotten seriously hurt. And you’re lucky Raymond didn’t collar you. He may be bronze, but he isn’t much of a fighter. I take it he caught you by surprise, and isn't aware of your strength?”
“What? No, I-” Alex cut himself off, not wanting to give this man any information.
Matt chuckled but dropped the topic.
“Word of advice, I would ditch most of your clothes. Judging by Raymonds mood he will want to pay you back for whatever you did to him. He won’t dare kill you until Markov orders it, but his experiments usually involve getting bloody. Plus, the floor is extremely uncomfortable here.” He pointed to the pile of his own clothes further away. “Better to use them as bedding, than to lose them.”
“What do they want from us? What are they trying to do? Raymond said something about a summoning going wrong.”
Alex asked before stripping down to the under clothes Jane had provided him.
“Really? Interesting.” Matt said, and walked over to his makeshift bed settling down with apparent comfort, and with no intention on elaborating. He rested his head gently on his well-worn but expensive looking boots, a piece of ragged cloth was bundled on top of the boots and served as a pillow as he studied Alex with quiet curiosity.
“Interesting? How so?” Alex asked, forcing his tone to be polite.
“I’ve heard stories about failed summoning rituals pulling in people from another world, but I’ve never actually met an Outworlder who arrived here that way. You are from another world, aren’t you?”
“What makes you think that?” Alex asked defensively, knowing it was probably pointless to deny it, but doing it anyway.
“Observation and deduction, mostly.” Matt said with a teasing tone Alex did not find amusing.
“Look,” Alex said, his emotions too fried to even attempt to humor this strangely chipper captive.
“I’ve had one hell of a day – or days – I am not even sure how long it has been since I woke up in this damn place anymore. So, can you do me a favor, Sherlock? Can we just skip past the part where you cleverly explain all the minute details pointing out the fact that I’m an Outworlder? Yes, I’m an Outworlder. Yes, I am suitably impressed by your superior wit and astounding powers of observation.
Are you happy now?”
“Sure.” Matt said with a nonchalant shrug, clearly bemused by Alex’s rant.
“Good.” Alex snapped.
Frustration filled him for a second when Matt didn’t try to argue back, quickly replaced with anger at himself for acting so childish.
“Just tell me what the hell is going on here. What exactly is this place?”
Matt studied him in silence. His piercing blue eyes were so light that from this distance they looked more white than blue.
“It was your accent.” he said finally.
“My - what?” Alex asked, nonplussed.
“Your accent.” Matt repeated. “You speak in a neutral tone indicative of having learned this language from a skill book or from a racial ability.”
“Actually,” he added brightly. “Outworlders often have some kind of language adaptation power from a racial ability. Is that how you are speaking to me now? Some kind of racial ability?”
Alex let out a growl of frustration and began hurling insults at Matt, who remained lounging on his makeshift sleeping pallet.
With every vile word, the venomous bile that sprayed from his mouth made him feel a little better. The fact the it seemed to have little effect on the carefree prisoner mattered even less to Alex, who was only focused on purging as much of his pent-up anger as possible without straight out attacking the annoying man.
“Listen kid.” Matt said once Alex’s string of barely coherent insults started to die down to a barely audible mumbling. “Down here,” he motioned to the cell. “Letting your emotions overwhelm you will get you nowhere.”
Alex scoffed, but Matt continued.
“Begging and pleading won't stop Raymond – let alone Markov – and insults will only make it worse.”
“Thanks for the life lesson, random dude I just met. I don’t know if I would have survived without that pearl of wisdom! Who knew taunting the people that are keeping us captive to experiment on us could be a bad thing! But know I know that, everything is going to be all okay.”
“Backbone, good. You’re going to need it.” Matt said with a wolfish smile.
“When he takes you in there, hold on to that. Courage, spite; whatever keeps you going. Everything else you bottle up. Bury that shit, forget about it, and pray you live long enough to deal with the aftermath when the time comes to finally dig it back up.”
“You know, you should be a teacher.”
“I am, actually.” Matt said with a chuckle. “Of a sort.”
“Yeah? Well, no offense but you kind of suck as a teacher. Forgive me if I don’t pay you for the lesson.”
“Not at all,” Matt said with a charitable wave of his hand. “Never really got into it for the money. If you want to know something more useful though, then I will tell you this: Regardless of what Raymond says, he will not kill you. He will want information on how you got here, but he won't risk doing permanent damage until he gets word from Markov.”
Alex looked down at the bundle of clothes in his arms and thought about putting everything in his storage, before chucking them into the corner of the cell instead. The last thing he needed was to have Markov or Raymond ask questions about his missing clothes or finding out about his dimensional storage space. If that ability was rare enough, they would want to know more. What if they could strip him of his abilities? Matt had been here for who knew how long. Did he still have all of his powers? He said that he was bronze rank after Alex had shoved him into the wall. He didn’t know how big the gap was between ranks, but if he really was bronze rank Alex shouldn’t have been able to hurt him so easily.
It was true. Matt’s head had hit the stone wall with such force that Alex was sure he had accidentally killed him. Instead, he was only stunned for a couple of seconds.
Alex looked at the flecks of blood that marked the place Matt collided with the stone and turned to study him.
If he was that strong, why was he still here? He was contemptuous when he brought up the power of their captives.
Alex dismissed the idea almost immediately.
It was possible given how quickly Matt’s wound healed.
While running through the forest, Alex had accumulated numerous shallow scratches on his arms and legs from rogue branches and the deceptively thick underbrush that was hidden underneath a layer of snow, waiting for the chance to snag his foot and drag him down like a crocodile stalking a young doe foolish enough to venture too far from the bank. These scrapes healed in a matter of minutes, and one scratch – barely deep enough to break skin – slowly disappeared before his very eyes.
If he could heal that quickly with no essences and only a racial ability that boosted his attributes, what could someone at bronze rank do?
Aware that the silence was dragging on, Alex lifted his hands in surrender, signaling that he didn’t want to fight anymore.
“So, what is it they are trying to accomplish here? I heard that he was trying to do some astral cloud space with a transponding.. bonding... thing.” Alex said, walking over to Matt and sitting down cross-legged, hoping to surreptitiously get a better look at the manacles on his wrists and neck.
“Transponding bonding thing?” Matt echoed, sharing Alex’s grin.
Vi said.
“Where did you hear that?” Matt asked. “You just arrived to this world. I thought you would be outside the gossip circles.”
“A very chatty lady who recently cut my hair told me.”
For some reason Alex couldn’t explain, he was still fond of Jane and her motherly prattling. Despite the fact that she and her husband were directly responsible for his current situation, as well as everything he had been through since waking up in that rusty cell after he was drugged. It seemed like she genuinely cared about Alex, and looking back, he recognized multiple instances where she tried to get Alex away from the house.
Matt waited for him to elaborate but Alex just smiled blandly at him, as though he was politely waiting for him to continue the conversation. The silence sat companionably between both men as they looked at one another. The silence grew, stretching between them like a taught rubber band they each held in their hands. The held tension built until the band was passed its tolerance yet stubbornly refused to snap all the same.
Alex ignored her and took this chance to look at the Matt’s restraints.
The collar and manacles Matt wore were simple, crudely wrought bands of metal that were banged into only the approximate shape of a circle, making them rest awkwardly against his skin. However, there didn't appear to be any seams showing that the two ends were welded together so Alex guessed that the bands were formed by magical tools instead of mundane ones. The wrist cuffs were surprisingly thin, looking more like bracelets than actual manacles, and tiny intricate runes were chiseled around the entire inside of the metal with thin looping lines, making Alex think of The One Ring. The markings were light gray – almost white – and stood out starkly against the dark grey color of the rest of the metal.
The collar had the same grey-white markings etched into it as the manacles, though they stood out more on the collar. The metal was thicker, with a dark burnished bronze coloring, like the metal underneath had gone to rust. There were also multiple runes carved on the outside of the band in that appeared in random spots like the ill-placed tattoos of a misspent youth.
“Someone that works for Markov. They slipped something into my drink and I woke up here.” Alex said reluctantly. Breaking the silence, and feigning a grimace at the smug smile that spread over Matt’s face.
“You mentioned something about that collar before.” Alex said slowly, hoping to change the topic.
“You said I was lucky that I wasn’t collared when Raymon captured me. What exactly does it do?”
Alex hoped that by conceding the information about Jane – as vague and incomplete as it was – would make Matt more amenable to answering his questions about the restraints. Alex hated being so indirect, but he didn’t fully trust this man and wanted to keep as much information about himself secret until he knew just how valuable that information actually made him.
Matt was too unbothered by their current circumstances, too optimistically charismatic for someone wearing restraints and covered head to toe in dirt and dried blood. He was acting like an audience member that was picked at random to be a surprise contestant on a gameshow, instead of being an unwilling subject imprisoned for scientific experimentation. There was an undercurrent of nerves in his actions, sure. But nothing that made Alex think he was actually in fear for his life.
Maybe he wasn’t?
If that were the case, then Matt was a plant Markov put here in order to gain the confidence of whoever else was in the cell with him. Torturing someone for information was only reliable to a certain point. Eventually, they would say anything just to get the pain to stop. But who would suspect a fellow captive?
The idea was too elaborate to seem plausible though. Markov seemed to come and go as he pleased, spending days or weeks at a time away from the laboratory. He didn’t need to have a man on the inside to collect information because he wasn’t in a hurry. So, what then?
Matt was some kind of psychopath that didn’t care if he lived or died?
“The collar is used for suppressing the essence abilities of the one wearing it. It works for most racial abilities too, but the ones that don’t get suppressed aide little in escaping situations like this.” Matt said.
“Abilities with continues passive effects?” Alex guessed. “Like language translation?”
Matt’s eyebrows twitched up in momentary surprise.
“As it happens, yes. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue for me.” He said and then shook the manacles on his wrist.
“Which is where these come in. Specially made for my... other talents, as well as the experiments they have been doing on me. Raymond maybe be a hack when it comes to performing rituals but damn me if that the worm is a gifted artificer. He is probably working on a set for you as we speak. You wouldn’t have happened to stumble across some keys by any chance?”
“Actually, I did. I lifted them from Katjav when I was hiding in the library.”
Sudden hope bloomed in Matt, and he sat up with a jolt. “You still have them? Raymond didn’t take them from you?”
The intense look of hunger on the man’s face at the chance of escaping was too raw to be faked.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
With a flourish of his hand, the key ring he looted from Katjav appeared and he held it up with a smug smile.
“Dimensional storage space.” Alex said and then gestured towards the manacles. “May I?”
Matt held out one of his manacled wrists and Alex touched the cool metal with a tentative finger.
Alex turned over the man’s wrist, to examine the other side.
“There aren’t any key holes.” Alric said, his light tone tinged with a hint of impatience.
“My perception power allows me to examine magical items – kind of. I want to make sure I don't spring any traps by attempting to open it. Last thing we want is for this thing to blow up or something.” Alex said, looking up so Matt could see the swirling colors in his eyes.
He gave a low whistle of appreciation.
“I bet that ability does wonders on the ladies.” Matt said.
It was mostly true – the perceptions ability to examine items that is – not its effects on women. Although Alex could also see it having that particular effect as well. It was an interesting thought though. If he –
Alex stifled a grin and returned his attention to the manacle. While Alex could technically use his perception ability to examine the item, it only gave him a rough idea of what its intended purpose was. The ability was still too new to understand what he was seeing outside of what his instincts told him, however. Once his knowledge of magic grew, he might be able to see and understand more. Until then he would have to muddle his way through and hope he discovers any traps that may be embedded in the magic of the restraints before it was too late.
“I’ve never seen anything like this.” Alex mumbled, more thinking out loud to himself than to Matt.
“Judging by the way the mana is flowing, there are definite suppression elements to this, but it’s not like what’s coming off of the collar.”
Alex shifted his attention to the collar around Matt’s neck.
The magic surrounding the metal of the collar felt like the drain in a sink, continuously sucking down water from a tap that had been left on. The magic seemed to swirl around and then into the surface of the metal, but it didn’t look like it was consuming the magic.
Alex gingerly lifted part of the collar up to get a better look at the runes that were etched on the inside.
Alex ignored her and studied the magic as it interacted with the markings underneath the collar.
“They’re barrier points.” Alex said suddenly. “But how is it powering them? The magic on outside of the collar is different than this.”
Working as many fingers as he could inside of the collar, he gripped the cold metal where one of the markings were. It was faint, but after a few seconds Alex felt a draining sensation throughout his body. The swirling wisps of magic surrounding the collar faded away. Alex blinked, feeling sluggish. The world seemed to have lost its vibrance. Everything around him looked faded and pale, as though the colors had been leeched and bleached from the world.
Alex snatched his hand away and he instantly was flooded with energy. His vision exploding into a kaleidoscope of colors as his magical senses kicked in again, momentarily overwhelming him.
“What was that?” Matt asked. “Is it trapped? Did you trigger it? Your eyes looked different, almost normal. Like all the colors were washed out.”
Alex pressed his palms hard against his eyes as the vertigo receded. Once he felt like he wasn’t going to fall over, he slowly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly through the tears.
“We’re fine.” He said hoarsely. “It wasn’t a trap.”
“The collar is built so that it feeds of the magical power of the one that wears it. I think it also does something with dimensional energy, but I can’t be sure. The effect was significantly reduced, but when I placed my fingers around the collar it affected me as well. I’m fine now though. Do my eyes look normal again?”
“Your irises are swirling with colors again, if that’s what you mean by normal.” Matt said, studying his face.
Alex shook his head like a man trying to shake off the remnants of a long sleep.
“Do all collars do that? It felt like it was sapping all of my energy, not just suppressing my powers.”
“It’s hard to explain.” Matt said hesitantly. “The collar effects everyone differently depending on that kind of powers they have. If you have a lot of abilities that boost your stamina or strength, you might feel like your energy is being drained or suddenly weak. Regular suppression collars don’t target a specific type of energy though. Most of Markov’s experiments have to do with dimensional spaces, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it was modified to incorporate that kind of energy into the collar to keep it from malfunctioning.”
Matt looked at Alex with concern, who was still wobbling slightly.
“You sure you’re fine? I’ve never seen someone react like that to a suppression collar when they weren’t even the one wearing it.”
Alex nodded, his perception power fully under control again.
“The suppression effect itself was barely noticeable. It was just a little overwhelming having my perception ability kick off and on again. I’m fine now.”
The door on the far side of the hallway flung open and Raymond strolled in. He was pushing a cart with a small metal tray affixed above it with adjustable legs, whistling an upbeat jaunty tune that somehow chilled Alex more than the minacious accoutrements that ladened the cart.
Raymond’s eyes fell on Alex and he stopped, a slow menacing smile spreading across his lips.
“Well, well. If it isn’t my little Outworlder.”