The book was gone. A cold breeze whistled through the chamber and rustled Marco's bathrobe, sending vibrant chills throughout his body. Being thrust from the warm comfort of his home threw his senses for a spin. It was like being forcefully tossed downstream, only to end up stranded upon an unfamiliar shore. Marcus reached for his head, but scraped the edge of his cheek with something hard and pointed. [color=black][i]"What."[/i][/color] His voice was gentle and came out as a whisper. The morning light glinted off some mysterious instrument that clung to his arm like some kind of bracer. It was too fast. Lightheaded and nauseous, Marcus stumbled backwards as the people around him started to speak. His left leg gave way, leaving him on one knee behind the line of summoned heroes, looking far less heroic than the priest made them out to be. From his crouched position, the mysterious atmosphere floated above him like eerie fog. Marcus struggled to catch his bearings, but couldn't rise to his feet. To his left, a silver haired boy immediately took to the offer that Marcus could barely comprehend. The blonde boy on his right didn't seem as ready to accept Hans' preposterous announcement, but didn't look staggered by the transport at all. This was a little too much to take it all at once. Too much for thirty-something politician who just wanted to read a book.