[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/qSXKgkY.png[/img]
[sub][@Nanaya][@AThousandCurses][@Psyker Landshark][/sub][/center]
Otis didn’t spare a thought for those who came after him, only to lean against a wall and watch. Time was of the essence indeed, the atmosphere in the classroom such that the twinned realities would collapse upon each other once more, this time within Classroom 104. His Personal Barrier manifested once more, that sense of distance, of isolation, segregating him from the charged atmosphere, the bucking and breaking of a fragmenting leyline. There was less than a minute now, hardly any time to consider the pros and cons of methodology, hardly time to even consider personal safety in the pursuit of knowledge.

Think. What did he know?

Davil had shifted to another portion of Ascendia. Ascendia was a place bereft of essence, and one burned personal essence in order to continue existing there. The Arcane leyline’s quality was the accelerated drain of emotional essence and the strengthening of conceptual essence. But who knew how much essence Davil had? He could not have used his Ethos in the situation. It had to be associated then, with his Prime Essence somehow interfacing with the overlapping worlds, for while overcharged leylines were consumed, the pathways of those leylines remained. A void, a vacuum of essence, in a world where it was still ever-present.

Was he sucked in, like a leaf down a drain? But, due to the imperfect nature of this method of traversal, caught in-between?

Focus.

It took him three seconds to cross the room. Less than that to pull at his own prime essence, the Seeker who reached across worlds. In the void of essence that made up the pallid feather, Otis filled it with his own, envisioning the form of the one that he sought. That deficient fool who had too many disparate parts to just be a fool. He wove threads into the aether, entwined those threads until they were chains, chains to pull, chains to weigh, chains to shackle.

The pathways of that arcane leyline still existed, its flow bound by another but its grooves remaining regardless. There were no other oddities present, so there was only one thing to do.

Tear Davil out, by the roots.