A set of footsteps approached Isfrael's private quarters. Distinct from all the others through the echo escaping the metal floor. The tapping of every stepped was doubled, tripled at times. High heels, no doubt. There was a moment of silence as the footsteps stopped in front of the door leading into the Oracle's room. A voice resonated through the door not unlike Raven's.
Getting through the slog of managing the business took less and less time with each passing month. He was able to delegate more and more responsibilities to his subordinates and expected to be able to ensure the last two companies' relative autonomy before the end of the quarter.
Moving away from the table on his chair, Israfel stretched and put his hands behind his head. Just a little bit of work left.
Oddly, he heard footsteps. High heels. Who the hell is wearing high heels here? Someone got himself a girl for a day? The echo was too damn profound. That was not a regular visit. That couldn't be Raven and she didn't speak like that to him ever. His mind roiled as many times before...
– An uninvited guest, eh? Don't be afraid to come in, don't cry on your way back.
He didn't bother to turn to face the guest. He did not need eyes to see right now.
The door did not slide open. Silence was the answer to Isfrael's permission to come into the room. The footsteps came much closer, stopping just behind Isfrael.
"You should clean up more often. Place is a mess."
He waved his hand dismissively.
– Yeah, yeah, I know. I don't really live here anyway, it's more of an "organised chaos" workspace. At least no food packaging lying around, I always make it a point to immediately send it into the trash.
This guest probably wasn't too interested in his day-to-day matters. What was it interested in?..
– Now who are you with? Not one of us, I'm sure of that, and K'Hara don't give a damn about me. If you're another Incubus adamant on bending my will I will start writing formal complaints to Melia and Eris. So, Harb's guys? I hope you're not feeling suicidal, I don't want another Nomad just dying on me for no good reason.
His thoughts were a complete jumble right now. It's as if he spoke without thinking or even comprehending what he said.
The entity had slowly dropped the facade. A long shadow began to form, almost choking the light coming down on Isfrael's papers. Raven's voice slowly faded into the echoes of another thousand ones speaking at unison.
Tendrils had crept up on Isfrael's desk. Of a pale green hue, yet almost translucent. The voices had turned into laughters. Many were familiar to the Oracle, and some were not.
Melia. Eris. Two names with no meaning. The Lostshare does not have a say here.
So now the fun begins. The thing of Harbinger's design enters the stage properly. And it was oh so different from what he was used to. It was not quite the same old kind of Nomad that both K'Hara and Vagrants represented.
– Then tell Sh'ozak to pamper me real good when you guys have a moment, I could really use some of my Oracle privileges back, – he said with a smile. – Shame that I don't want any of the responsibility from them anymore.
He laughed through clenched teeth as his body was being enveloped in psychic energy. Something of a true face, a human-shaped shifting and trembling mass of colours.
– Vagrants are a very amicable bunch, though they still can't end the perpetual war with mankind... A shame indeed.
He finally turned to face the guest.
– I still need to meet him, you know. I still need to know the perspective that he wants me to know. Still need to understand what he wants done. But why exactly are you here? Do you have an invitation for me, maybe? It would be quite welcome.
The guest's words seemingly drove Israfel into stupor. His shape started to slowly slump and slightly tilt to the right. Suddenly, he went upright again, like nothing happened.
– You want something that is valuable for me but shouldn't be hard to procure for him. But it's not for him, is it? Auxesia could get it themselves, I imagine. Whose hands will hold it, now? He should know, and you should know by now that I love sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. This is exactly the moment for that.
Israfel's "body" tilted its head.
– Ah, the devil is so en vogue lately. Alas, I choose to have one foot in the grave and my head inside the lion's mouth... As you keep laughing at me. Consequences of my actions might outweigh all of the benefits. You need to find someone truly desperate. You probably know some options...
The mass of thoughts and impulses slowly grew, dropping down onto the floor and merging with the puddle below the chair. It chuckled, then it half laughed and half whined, its voice distorting.