The sorrow that Octus feels is not because of Michael. To him the man was more of a passing acquaintance than a long time friend. Another decade or two might have changed that. Never know now. He is saddened because the other performers, who are close friends, feel the loss keenly. He will go on the hunt of course. It is one of the few things that captures his attention and usually does not leave him uncertain. If that were not enough the circus is home. No one trifles with a mans home without suffering the consequences.

Octus flings open the tent and sprints away towards the transportation muttering the whole way. [color=DC143C]"North of town mine shaft 27, North of town mine shaft 27, North of town mine shaft 27..."[/color] He arrives at his lyft and jumps in practically barking at the driver to get there as quickly as possible. [color=DC143C]"If you make haste there will be a bonus in this for you. Hurry before everything is forgotten."[/color] 

Continuing his litany of purpose Octus begins to breathe evenly and prepare his mind for the onslaught of foresight. Eight seconds does not seem like so long a time. Try seeing all the outcomes of everything in existence for those eight seconds. Once that happens change a small detail and hold on as the world blurs and reality warps to near breaking. He can never focus on the entire web for long without starting to lose grip on his own being. No matter, even if it drives him insane, Octus will not let anyone else fall to the daemon. 

Reaching into his inner coat pocket he retrieves an old silver coin and begins flipping it. [i]Flip. Spin.[/i] The eye of the storm that coin. [i]Flip. Spin.[/i] The result does not matter because Octus does not have to glance down to see it. [i]Flip. Spin.[/i] As long as there is an anchor returning to normal is a simple concern. [i]Flip. Spin.[/i] Just wait Daemon. The inevitable hands of fate are coming. [i]Flip. Spin.[/i]...