It appeared as if more scenarios were being brought up constantly, the situation unveiling further curiousities to attend to. One of the students shouted about a core within the Foreteller that contained a twin to the Bronsteel child. Another student was quick at work in snuffing out all sources of light. The winged knight was performing remarkably, showcasing destructive feats that caused the entire auditorium to ripple. And Ciara was biding her time too, her status as a
shadow-witch finally pronounced to the world by that insufferable twerp.
How rude. Hers wasn’t the only one rooted in darkness.
As the tempo of the battle increased, everyone’s roles receiving the increased burden of Mannekins whom became more astute combatants, a commander who was losing more and more of his own calm, Otis allowed himself to slip further into the background. Circumventing the swarm that charged for the paladin, that chased for the markswoman, that pursued the blade-thrower, that disdained the shadow-witch. He was just a small owl-boy, after all, with a gun ill-suited for the hordes. Just a humble Seeker, possessing no god-like might beyond the confines of his domain, drawn only to the pleasure of knowledge, of Truth.
His hands wove the air, a conductor on his lonesome. Draw sigils into empty space, defining the order and the constraints, the reason behind restraints. Whispered words gave life-light to cold calculation, mortal breath the transience of a fading spell.
“Knock knock.”That was all it was.
The sound of Otis knocking on the minds of every sapient being within the auditorium. An individual telepathy request sent out to the Marksman, the Hunter, the Inheritor, the Doctor, the Bronsteel child. It was a request that faded away moments later, the one at the door walking away before one could even respond, leaving nothing but…a lingering trail.
Single-link telepathy magic, repurposed to track the locations of all living beings within a certain area, via an attempt to create a psychic connection with every applicable individual.
That was the choice the Strigidae made, in order to ascertain whether Gulliver was the titan, the command, or
both.