A yellow cloud exploded, freezing everyone in place, and Lei leapt up and darted across the room to where her bag had been left resting on a desk. The outside of the bag bore an array of decorative markings; she tapped several of them in a specific and intricate pattern. A copy of herself materialized next to her, and on the desk appeared a copy of the bag. She pointed to the table she had been lying on, and the other version of Lieutenant Amanda Jones nodded and moved to take her place.

"You know more than most, Leilei, that there are complexities on top of complexities on top of complexities. Society exists in layers. You see yourself at the top of your layers because of the nature of your career. You worked for a man that managed thousands of worlds. To some, that is nothing more than a few small cities. We plan for millions of years, not hundreds. I adore the young minds that come to me seeking knowledge, and as the keeper of my knowledge, it is my choice who learns what. But the truth is, I just wanted to stay in my nice, warm bed."

He pointed out the window to the fae'ana and the ulthari arguing near the call box. "Faetherna is the Fae'ana home world and you're with one of the few entities that can get inside. Us mortals are banned from from learning anything about it at all, let alone where it is. But if you plan to go in there Lei, be very careful. They genuinely hate outsiders. They will kill you as easily as they will look at you. And if you die in the digi‐net, there's nothing I can do for you. It's permanent."

"Sprits of the mist, give me the sight to find Kevru'tal." She called respectfully into the mist, using the tongue of the spirit world. In the distance the sound of angry humans screaming and yelling grew. She turned in the direction of the sound and saw a feint yellow glow in the mist. Taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly she raised an eyebrow in irritation and began to walk towards the noise and light. The closer she got to the light the more defined the sound grew, it was the sound of a rather angry mob and she wondered what that had to do with the small elaran rogue.

"Why?"
"Honestly, I don't know why. Something about the great one." The dwarf gestured to the stone walls around them and shrugged before walking back towards the tram.
Rain felt and heard a slight hum circle around her, causing her bones to vibrate almost painfully. She wasn't sure, but it almost felt like an agreement of some kind. It faded as quickly as it had come and as she looked around. The older dwarf was settling into a rather comfortable looking padded seat on the tram and she realized that he didn't seem to have heard it.

The marble here was bare, left uncovered by rugs or furniture, and inlaid with a breathtaking mural crafted from thousands of colored stones. The image stretched across the entire expanse — a vivid, violent depiction of a battle scene. At the heart of it stood a figure, tall and proud, armored in shining silver, a great sword raised high above their head. One foot, heavy in plate armor, rested atop a pile of orcish corpses, their bodies broken and brutalized, many of them decapitated, their blood staining the field crimson around the victor's feet.