The last time Cigány visited Gereza a substantial amount of its massive staff had to be replaced for a bevy of reasons that were borderline asinine. Ranging from general dismissal, resignation, injuries and even death, just the thought of her alone was enough to induce chills down every worker's spine. It was hard for Yamel to process just how fast things had occurred. Just minutes before it resembled any other day and now it had to potential to be his last on the job. Depending on how he answered could affect his entire life going forward and neither Mado-Keno nor Sinclair was in sight to save him.  Somewhere deep in one of his several hearts, he knew he like eighty percent of the staff here were expendable. Despite this, he still had the strength to look into her menacing set of pupilless eyes.

Awfully nervous, Yamel responded to his towering superior knowing anything he said could be taken out of context and have him possibly prosecuted. 

[i]“Mado-Keno is in his office, Vhadgeid…. Let me show you the way.”[/i]

Yamel Tao’Zoag emitted such strong feelings of fear she could even analyze his train of thought in detail through their empathetic bond. Feeling somewhat in a giving mood, she figured the embarrassment of knowing she could see through him alone was enough. Prior to dismissing him, Cigány continued her leering gaze before spontaneously turning to the entrance of the grand elevator.

[i]“No, several of my accompanying escadrille unit will suffice.”[/i]

To Yamel’s delight, he was not scolded. Graciously he counted his blessings, especially since Cigány failed to notice his abundance of pooling sweat behind his desk. (At least he thought) So far everything went well considering her abrasive tendencies. He could finally exhale once the shaft closed. He looked across the lobby to see the trail of Gereza guards she had used a doormat and whispered to them.

[i]“Don’t. Get. Up.”[/i]

Considering several of them were on the verge of passing out, a great idea sprung into Yamel’s head. Earlier Cigány demanded he find a perpetrator for the miscommunication involving Sinclair’s absence. There might be a few candidates right in front of him. 

The doors opened on one of the lower levels and instantly her voluptuous scent allured many of the traditionally jailed prisoners behind bars. Also enticed by the scent was Mado-Keno, but his reaction differed enormously from the prisoners who were salivating. He was instantly put on high alert.

[i]“This is bad… Must hide”[/i]

Cigány stormed into the office but noticed no one was there. She could definitely sense him but the main desk remained vacant. She walked up to the desk and spread apart a few papers until something caught her eye. It appeared to be a personal journal Mado-keno had just written in. On the left was a  doodle of a vaguely familiar robot, but on the right read [i]“This is a drag. That §3 unit is only going to make me have to do actual work until Sinclair returns. I need a break...”[/i]

Intrigued in more ways than one, Cigány realized it would be best if she took over the entire complex in the meantime. It would be effective the minute she informed Mado-Keno, should he actually make an appearance. Though she wasn’t aware of it, Mado-Keno was indeed in the room. He was an expert in camouflage and even masking his aura. The amazing spot he chose was none other than in-between the wall and the door female Cizran had just moments ago opened. He silently gasped when he realized she was going through the journal but neither she nor the Escadrille noticed. He was relieved but there was no way for him to escape considering the door was guarded. 

[i]“I hate my job”[/i] he sighed to himself, rolling all of his eyes while staring at the ceiling.

Worst of all Cigány perched herself at his desk and began to go through his personal logs. What she’d find wasn’t incriminating but certainly embarrassing to say the least. Simultaneously she also became aware of the incoming transfer of prisoners expected from Admiral Nenegin. As events unfolded, she was bound to find out why he would ultimately arrive uncharacteristically late. 

Killimara was in the face of extinction level event after event, and as it appeared, many lives were not in the position to be spared. Aredemos attempted to save face but the reality was he should have reacted much sooner. In fact, for a being who apparently watched over all of the Killimaran’s it was almost unfathomable how irresponsible he had acted. 

Kaan meticulously crafted the page of Aldaraia he sent forward to be interacted with by only one individual. That individual was definitively not Aredemos. The second he pierced the page Kaan’s mercy had been affronted. This was something the lich did not take lightly. Ironically, the only souls prepared to be salvaged were the ones whose minds had already been linked with Kaan’s. Something was coming and it had nothing to do with Kaan aside from perhaps his tendency to draw horrible misfortune like a magnet.

The Killimaran’s God wanted to free them by destroying their stones but his efforts were undoubtedly in vain. A sound like howling winds erupted west. Overhead a flurry of what appeared to be rapidly flowing strands of green tinted circus clouds swiftly traveled overhead. This wasn’t an odd weather pattern by any chance. Basic analysis confirmed this was, in fact, visual representations of howling Killimaran souls traveling through the air towards, Kaans location. The amalgamation of moving clouds created a profile in its crevices, sneering down upon Kirri and Aredemos.

[i]“This….is…the… end”[/i] the collective howls worded, but the end Kaan had in mind would not be inflicted; at least not entirely. Before he could collect any more souls Kaan felt his presence being homed in on by an unknown force and as Aldaraia was collected so was he. The deployed konul seized any opportunity he had to acquire the majority of the souls but at this point Kaan gained a sufficient amount of strength and everything at this point was just extra. Anything in the vicinity of Killimaran space would only watch on and marvel at the event of a Konul strike.

When the book arrived it was abundant with spiritual presence. Silexies desired item had coincidentally been acquired and was coming right to him on Cizra-Suh Lahn. Had he known this,  Eal Sermonde would have never been released to retrieve it. Word of the discovery was bound to get to him but as of now Silexies remained uninformed. Even if he tried to inform Sinclair to call it off he wouldn’t have gotten an answer anyhow. Their communication link was suspiciously blocked. Sinclair and Eal’s whereabouts were very much unknown. Sinclair did not have the mental means of deflecting Silexies psychic waves so it was possible that they were, in reality, plotting something.