Following suit, Kasumi stepped through the portal. She could feel the familiar thumping in her chest begin to quicken, her blood coursing through her veins with renewed vigor. It was this thrill that she truly lived for, the feeling of taking destiny into your hands and making it your bitch. As she stepped out of the light that the portal was comprised of, she found herself in the darkened desert, presumably near Ivlser, though she could not see any signs of civilisation nearby. This must have meant that they were quite a way out in the desert. She quickly assisted Caelyn in moving the body to the Yata-Garasu's desired location, before sitting down on the cold sand. She released her Soelbe from its relic in order to stay with her, the two Globes of light that accompanied the ghost offering a sharp constrast to the light of Indolu that bore down from the sky.

"Yep. Now we wait, studmuffin." She chimed in, agreeing to Caelyn's statement, while she surveyed the area around her. While the general area seemed not to have any distinguishing features, the fact they they had been brought to a desert left a few options open - it was most likely, Kasumi reasoned, that whatever it was they were looking for (presumably a prison of sorts) was buried beneath the sands. The matrix that the Yata-Garasu had invoked had seemed to be particularly complex and, if Kasumi could explain it in a word, ancient. It was unlikely that they had been bought to this patch of desert in order to look for something. It seemed most logical that their current location was directly above whatever it was they had been intended to find.

"If you make it out of this alive, I'll let you do what you want with me 'til the sun comes up." Kasumi laughed, continuing to pick her nails with her knife idly. She didn't particularly enjoy being made to sit still, but the action would resume soon. She was still full of adrenaline, and though it was no longer ramping up like it had as she walked through the portal, it was still at a high enough level to keep her particularly on edge. This was easily reflected in her posture and the intent with which she was playing with her knife - the wet blood dripping from her hand did not seem to be bothering her at all.