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This place looks familiar…

Misu bit his lip, surveying the landscape.

Far off in the distance, three conical towers rose like mountains out of the thick smog.  A cold white light flickered above the towers, briefly illuminating the churning gray sky.

A weak smile pulled at the corners of his lips.  The sight of the Reactors was somehow comforting to him – a familiar sight in this strange new land.  There was no doubt about it now.  They had landed in Spire, or at least in an environment closely modeled after the city.  The white light splashed against the clouds, flickering out again in the blackening sky.  Misu shifted uncomfortably.  Tonight there will be rain…

Had Project Goldenseal met its doom in this reality?  A chill ran down his spine as he remembered that fateful night.  He had first noticed the air pulsing and throbbing against his skin, then helplessly watched alongside the citizens as the sky churned and the rain fell up in midair.  Something deep within Spire’s foundations had gone horribly, horribly wrong that day, and there was nothing that he could have done to save it.

He sighed.

That poor, poor kid.

Did the Shrike exist in this reality?  Perhaps in this realm Project Goldenseal had never come to be, and he was still living in relative peace and comfort in the lab, and maybe by now he had traveled far overseas – gazing from scribbled out posters in Citadel and maybe even smuggled propaganda in Kardova – or perhaps he even had the chance to ask Saskia to a second dance.

Perhaps he even had the chance to ask Saskia to a second dance…

Misu bit his lip, hard.

Poor girl.

He shook his head.  This place was just a copy of a familiar realm, and nothing more.

Time to refocus.

He shot an uneasy glance around the streets.  Unlike the dying city he knew, this Spire had long since perished.  The streets were still and empty, silent save for – “Lorcan, out of the way, now!”

Misu whipped around to see the fighter flicker out, teleporting a fraction of a second before an inky black blur shot out.  He gritted his teeth.

Of all the pointless distractions…

The creature whipped around, shrieking through thousands of needle-sharp teeth.  In a split second, the fighter teleported behind the monster, swords flashing as he swiftly sliced it to pieces.

Misu smiled uncomfortably.  “Nice work!”

There was no reason why he should have let that man put his own life in danger, except for pure distraction on his part.

I am not going to let that happen again.

A slick, squelching sound ripped though the air like toxic mud sucked though grates of steel teeth.  The heaps of black slime writhed, pooling like oil on the filthy pavement.  Misu’s eyes widened as the creature swiftly pieced itself back together, its tar black exterior hissing and bubbling with each new addition.  The fighter swore in a foreign tongue.

There was only one option left, although he hated the idea of scaring Liorah a second time.  He gazed down at the creature; eyes locked with steely resolve

For a brief second, he saw his disguise fade in that oily black mirror – then the creature’s slick hide erupted in a blinding reflection of light.  The slime twisted and writhed, a swirling reflection of eyes and wings and thousands upon thousands of brightened windows.  The creature suddenly exploded in a flash of light, as the skyscrapers above kindled in reflection of the brilliant display.

In an instant, Misu slipped back into his familiar disguise.  The pavement smoked in front of him, scorched by the creature’s fatal stand.  The city, now darkened, brooded in anticipation of the coming storm.