[b]O[/b]ctavian had finally reached the place dictated to him, and finding only a servitor there, towering above him, he felt uneasy. He stood a good ways back from.. it. Cyborgs had never sat right with Octavian; not for any lack of trust in the flesh, but machines could be much more finicky. The cyborg simply stood there awaiting whatever set of stimuli it required for action and that gave Octavian a small reprieve from worry. Only moments had passed since he arrived when out of the humdrum of the streets, footsteps emerged. Although he thought to turn around, he worried that the servitor would spur to life with the new arrival. The crash of the man collapsing behind him made him turn, just in time for another man to round the corner. The second man seemed to be a doctor and was trying his best to find out what happened. Octavian was slightly perplexed at first but after a few moments he realized that he could be the cause. He knew very little about his hidden "blank" trait that seemed to make him somewhat special.

Once again someone came around to the scene and ignoring what the woman said, Octavian jogged about twenty feet away before turning back and yelling, [color=forestgreen]"Is he doing any better now?"[/color]. Octavian was somewhat nervous and hoped that his sudden outburst didn't confuse anyone too heavily. He hoped that he had gone far enough but without knowing if he was really the cause, it might not do any good. His basic medical knowledge was for naught in this situation, he had cauterized limbs, stitched together wounds, he even once removed an unexploded bolt from a lucky guardsmen. Although that luck was fleeting, he had barely recovered when an Ork cut him in half. He hoped that his limited knowledge of his powers helps here. If not, the Inquisition might decide he was no longer needed.