Skallagrim felt the electromagnetic energies whirl around him; slowly the induction field began to deform the air around him, creating lines of force, creating closed loops of electric energies around the black clad being, which in turn generates a magnetic field in phase with them. A multicolored borealis effect surrounded the Dreamer, as the amethyst energies in his eye-sockets dimmed to mere pinpoints of light. 

[i]"How do you know my name?" [/i]Michael shouted, with a hint of impudence. [i]"Who are you and who are the dreamers?"[/i] There were too many questions to ask, but Michael doubted that he'd find many answers.

[b]“There is little we do not know Michael Faraday…You have the potential to shape a great war, we seek to understand why.”[/b]

Stepping forward two steps, the Dreamer drew his sword Keefe holding it in a low rear guard position, the blade behind him and low, the tip barely an inch above the sandy ground. Left knee in the fore, the left hand raised above it, a shimmering amethyst glow encasing it. The weight of his body distributed evenly as the skeletal warrior allowed his energies to pulse with a deep thrum. A concentric wave of energy propagated from the Dreamer, causing a shifting of the sand around him. 

Above him, the skies flared with deep flashes of intra-cloud lighting that raced and jumped in the darkness. If one were able to recall the stories of the Valkyries or the night hunters who rode on storm clouds with wild abandoned. It seemed as if the skies were alive with creatures waiting with unabashed eagerness to be unleashed. 

A nimbus of violet energies raced around the body of Skallagrim, the smell of ozone increasing as was a pressure that seemed to weigh heavily upon the friends of Michael Faraday, a pressure that caused the hairs on their heads to stand up as if lifted by unseen hands.