I was trembling when we docked at Feshural. This trip couldn't end well.
I roared as someone — two someones — tore me away from the fucker, who was now lying on the deck looking like he had not seen me coming. Maybe the fucker hadn't; he had so little concern for other people, that asshat.
"That was fast," I commented. "Time travel," the messenger explained. I suppressed a groan. "Great."
"Well, the magician we delivered the deck to was dead, so we had to talk to their... umm..." Tymon turned to Bolotseseg. "What exactly was their relation?"
"You can't keep that photo!"
The rotting, greyed world was a depressing sight Bluberia hadn't prepared me for. Still, I trudged forward; the scanner told me that there was a concentration of Gemium ahead of me.
"It's a state-of-the-art device meant for easier analysis of the chemical composition of the area."
Nevertheless, xe had to find Elsie and fast. Every technomancer was needed now more than ever.
At the first sight of danger, the richest fled.
Like a great horned owl, They glided over the battlefield, Their jet giving them a clear view of what was going on beneath Them: children swarming one another like two opposing colonies of Earth ants. Whoever would survive had a chance of reaching the stars on Their jet.