[color=7bcdc8]Mason stood perplexed by an eerie hum that seemed to pervade his mind as he conditioned himself in silence to what was going on throughout the castle. The strange tide of colors in this place was making him feel... something he couldn't explain. He had never been in a place like this, in a thought like this. He could think clearer, and the race of his heart in the battle seemed to steady. Mason was almost enjoying himself. Still, he was focused, his eyes twitching left and right, following reflecting colors that bounced to and fro on the dark walls.

His breathing began to steady more than it had previously been, and a strange occurrence began. His hands were covered in a white substance that felt almost like silk. He had drafted white before, but on rare occurrences. He wasn't even sure how to use it. Nothing in all his text and even his mother's knowledge could put any certainty on what it was that this White Prism was and does. He was sure this place had something to do with it. Moments passed and his hands dripped a thick orange. It dripped onto the floor, spreading up and across the walls of the room. He wasn't even sure if this was him anymore or something else. It didn't matter though. The battle was coming. This could work, he thought to himself.[/color]