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[b]Location(s):[/b] Control Center, Paradox Engine.

[b]Mentions:[/b] Bruno Bucciarati [@Lewascan2], Terra [@Dead Cruiser], Danny [@Crimson Flame], Tai [@Martian], and Giovanni [@TruthHurts22]
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[color=00a651]"Mm...True enough, Daniel. Yes, I surmise this title means astonishingly little to any of us; merely a formality, so as to know what I mean when I refer to it, yes?"[/color] Brainstorm prattled off, answering Danny's claim as to why such a name held importance; well, it was the first answer they had received, and it should not be taken lightly! However, he was taken slightly off-track by the Half-Ghost's claim of being...Well, Half-Ghost. 

[color=00a651]"Most intriguing...So you mean to say, in your world, ectoplasmic entities are not mere bogeymen tales, but real, pseudo-living creatures? Well, I must insist you continue!..."[/color] After a brief pause, the Cerebrocrustacean realized the situation once more. [color=00a651]"...Er, later, I mean."[/color] He now turned his attention to the Viltrumite in the room, who had yet again begun bombarding him with questions. 

[color=00a651]"But of course, dear Terra! The Paradox Engine is a space station....Of sorts. Perhaps calling it a 'station' is more accurate vocabulary. To put it as simply as one of my intellect can manage...It would appear that the Engine resides in an area separated from both space and time; a true scientific enigma! Perhaps the source of their choice of name!" [/color] However, as he was preparing to keep moving on, Ben took notice of her trying to access the controls. 

[color=00a651]"Ahem! I highly recommend you leave these complicated systems to me! I am afraid their modus operandi is far too much for a...."[/color] The Cerebrocrustacean couldn't even finish his sentence before it happened. Just as had happened to him, a flood of information rammed itself headfirst into her cerebrum. The only difference being her brain wasn't the size of an engine block. It practically became nothing but horrifically painful white noise to her mind almost immediately, forcing her to step away before suffering any permanent injury. [color=00a651]"...Less sophisticated lifeform. No offense."[/color] While it was hard to tell with the facial structure of this form, Brainstorm could be made out slightly smirking. 

[color=00a651]"As for a power source? Why, my mentally scrambled companion, you're standing next to it!"[/color] Pointing a pincer towards the column-like structure that took up the majority of the center of the room, surrounded by the main controls, Ben nodded along. [color=00a651]"Yes, [i]that[/i] is the power source of the Paradox Engine. Although....Even I am unaware exactly [i]what[/i] it is, or how it runs. The most I can surmise is that my Conductoid form, Feedback, had managed to jumpstart the system, hence"[/color] He made a wide motion towards, well...Everything in the room. [color=00a651]"Why everything is online. Granted, there is something strange...Judging from the initial lack of power, and of course, this locale being seemingly devoid of any residents, it implies it has been abandoned for some time. And yet....Everything seems to be in perfectly working condition. There isn't even dust."[/color] To emphasize the point, he scratched his pincer against the floor, drawing up nothing but brief, small sparks from the interaction.

[color=00a651]"As for [i]what[/i] the Paradox Engine is for..."[/color] Mentally flexing his electrokinetic ability, the map seemed to warp itself, highlighting a particular section that, with Brainstorm's translation patch, simply read 'Testing Grounds'. It was the peak of the station; the very top floor. [color=00a651]"One can make the educated guess that this floor will have our answers. However, I believe we have more pressing matters, given Bucciarati's condition."[/color] Yet again, the map fluctuated once more, this time focusing on two different floors; Floor 6 and Floor 2, labeled as 'Luncheon Room' and 'Medical Bay' respectively. [color=00a651]"If he is to make a proper recovery, then in my professional opinion...He is in desperate need of nutrition, which I safely presume would be present in the Luncheon Room, and it would behoove us to be safe rather than sorry, and attempt a 'check-up' of sorts...The best we can manage, at least. I safely presume none of you possess medical training?"[/color]

Staring around a room of blank stares, Brainstorm sighed. [color=00a651]"...To be expected. I can handle that myself. While I, Brainstorm, possess a truly unmatched Intelligence Quotient, it may not translate perfectly onto the medical field...Especially given my appendages. But I possess another entity with the knowhow, if you'll excuse my rudimentary lingo, that can perform this task. Though for the time being..."[/color]

The crustacean creature scuttled forth, allowing Bruno to prop himself with his sturdy shell. [color=00a651]"While I am a thinker, and not a fighter, I am more than capable of aiding you to the transporter. You will find my chitinous exterior suitably stable for your support!"[/color] Before he scuttled off, however, his electrokinesis snatched up the spare map and dropped it into Danny's hands. [color=00a651]"Take care with it; it was [i]surprisingly[/i] tricky to figure out how to manage that, and the system seems unable to construct more at the given time."[/color] On that note, as Ben left, he was keeping the original with him as it neatly folded back in the rectangular shape. Though, before he could leave, yet more newcomers emerged. How to handle this....

[color=00a651]"...Whoever doesn't intend to leave and obtain some form of sustenance from the Luncheon Room, plan to accompany me and Bucciarati to the Medical Bay, or investigate the so-called 'Testing Grounds', can give the exhaustive explanation behind this predicament."[/color] With that, Ben scuttled away with Bruno in tow, careful to accommodate his pace. When the two reached the platform near the back-end of the room, Brainstorm turned to him with a slight look of concern. [color=00a651]"A word to the wise, Bucciarati. This is not quite an elevator or lift, per se...If you feel that you still possess food in your stomach, I request you hold onto it. This may get uncomfortable for a beginner in the lightspeed travelling arts..."[/color] Clicking a small elevator-like button, the chamber of the transporter closed, and in a blinding light, they were gone...

Only for them to appear once more less than a second afterwards, in what seemed like a new location; bright white tiling and walls, with the universal sign for medical care plastered to one; a red cross. Just looking at the area gave a sense of sterility as most hospices were known for. Multiple small rooms filled corridors, with most being patient rooms, though a few that looked to have filed away a number of amenities and equipment. Welcome to the [b]Medical Bay.[/b]