>>5308461>>5308482>>5309752>>5310853If an outsider happened to be watching the convocation unfold they would most likely simply see two young men lounging comfortably within the affluent first class train car. The simple mind of those unbound wouldn't be able to witness the grim miasma clouded space. The dark haze that seemingly blankets over the simple exchange of words.
You felt them stir. Both of them. Unsure if they were conscious or simple creatures of instinct. The words rouse them. Your lips grew dry, hairs standing on end. Even the false display across the windows seems to bend to the will of the atmosphere. A light rain passing through the pristine landscape, droplets rolling down the pretend windows. You reply, accepting a constant in all life. “Death comes for all, we must be patient.” With a soft hiss and a jolt, you began to feel motion. The training moves slowly at first and then a voice came across the train. Projected through speakers you couldn't see. Addressing all those onboard, describe the destination and estimated arrival. But you ignore it, Oracle still focuses his attention on you. Your thoughts were uncoordinated.
Maybe he could see what you couldn't. "No. It isn't that simple." The Pilot declares, you just watch him quizzically. "I can't help you with your memories." His tone didn't contain any hint of animosity, but the creases in his brow suggests the thought of it might be annoying him. “It’s clear why your call sign is Oracle.” You answer, trying to order your floating thoughts. "Ah. Unfortunately I never chose the name. If I had, I can tell you it would be something less cliche." You felt the pain, the name was surprisingly uninspired. Finally the other pilot looks away, resting back in his seat, those pale orbs turned to the ceiling. The force of motion increased ever so slightly as the train picked up speed, it was a faint feeling until the locomotive took a corner. Then you'd feel yourself lean as the train did. The windows reacted in kind and soon the picturesque scenery blurs.
