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[center][h1][color=ed1c24]The Weeping[/color] [/h1]

[i]Location: Building beside the Millennial Dome, Paragon City
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[@Nallore]
[i]Skills used: Host of Many[/i][/center]
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The Weeping had entertained the trio and their barrage of questions. Though it was probably safe to say most of the questions were not answered as well as any would have liked as The Weeping was largely unaware of most things pertaining to himself. A consciousness that had awoken mere weeks ago was still learning in a sense. A corpse that was fueled by negative emotions with the bulk of it was aimed at one crime family in particular.

He had just finished replying to a question that Steven had asked him when his orange eyes narrowed onto a brochure on a nearby table. The headline caught his attention. Or rather a name. 

Delgato. 

He wished them all well before vanishing saying he business to attend to but wished to meet up with them all later if he survived. A warning hung in the air to not judge him to harshly, but he did not elaborate further. 

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The Weeping rested curled up on a fetal position with his hands tightly grasping his back. He had found himself an alcove on the tallest building next to the Millennial Dome. He had unleashed a handful of spirits earlier that were spread throughout the inside of the building as well as the outside. His silent invisible eyes and ears.

As the Delgato's limo came into view The Weeping felt all the normally calm spirits within him begin to writhe and squirm. He frowned as his brow furrowed as he tightened his grip onto his body. He could feel his skin stretching, his muscles twitching, as his body fought itself to not be torn apart in the chaos. Imprints of faces and hands pressing from inside against his skin as they tried to seek release to attack what they deemed the source of their unrest. 

The spirits were screaming and The Weeping could begin to feel himself sweat as he struggled to keep the sentinel's stationary pleading with them that they lacked any physical ability to do anything to the man. His claws extending from his fingers and drawing lines of blood on his back as the pain helped him focus. The threat of loss of control of the mass of spirits wasn't what truly terrified him. He could feel it. The darkness at the edge of his mind. 

It was moving.

He could feel her.

The presence.

Then like a bucket of water poured over a flame. There was silence. The spirits ceased. The voices stilled. The Weeping felt like he was hugged by a warm blanket. It was then that he heard the words. Soft like silk. Sweet like poisoned honey. He could even feel tender fingers caressing his cheek.

[color=ed1c24][b]"REST...."[/b][/color]

Nigel made an attempt to bat the hand away, but the swing was far too short and feeble like trying to swing underwater. After the initial struggle he grew still. As Nigel slept The Weeping rose to his full height as an animalistic grin split his face from ear to ear. Its eyes locked onto the moving target. He would not leave this dome, then the rest of his empire would come crumbling down.