[ In the other room, a sludgy heavy mist begins to pour from the vents. It collects; it takes shape; it spreads its horrible, sharpened arms.
John does not have any creature with photoreceptors in the room to watch it. He cannot quite ride the bodies of Omens, not when they are more soul than blood and more smoke than anything. But the creature is one of his— made by his early-days disciples, which is only one step off being made by him— and so he feels its movements secondhand, tracks its surging thanergy in his mental peripheral vision.
The construct charges. Lazarus is left locked in place. ]
no subject
John does not have any creature with photoreceptors in the room to watch it. He cannot quite ride the bodies of Omens, not when they are more soul than blood and more smoke than anything. But the creature is one of his— made by his early-days disciples, which is only one step off being made by him— and so he feels its movements secondhand, tracks its surging thanergy in his mental peripheral vision.
The construct charges. Lazarus is left locked in place. ]