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Grimme lounged in the room, enjoying her intangibility and invisibility.

This augmentation kept her alive for centuries. Oh, it had it’s limits.

One of those was the eight-hour required use.  Through her link.  While she was the Warning and Message.

She didn’t want to see what happened if she… didn’t…

Grimme wrapped her arms around herself, surveying the room her so-called team argued in.

Her first impulse was to pull the glass-girl’s hair.  It was perfect for pulling and she was literally trapped in the perfect manner for pulling hair.

“But I am nobility.  And I will act like it, even if they can’t see me.”

She only saw herself the way one sees smoke.

And walking though walls was fun.  Once you got used to it.

She clawed the back of her neck rocking with the vivid sensation of the transfer: the hundreds of legs, of eyes.

She pressed her abdomen, wincing at the phantom sensation of the mountain – it always crunched right where her heart should be.

She sank to her knees, wincing as one of the not-teammates passed through her.  She laughed bitterly.

“May my curse be on you Oaken Door.  May you feel every agony, anger, and grief of the people you have dragged here.” she whispered.

She curled in on herself and cried.

After all, you could do that when ghosting, without anyone ever knowing.