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Sometimes they are five. Sometimes they are three.
We do not merely destroy our enemies;
we change them.
WELCOME TO THE END OF TIME.
The Regency has its spies and its cloaks and daggers. You may have even brushed shoulders with one and not have known it. There is a place for such tactics. You are not in that place any longer.
On missions like these, the Regency prefers to keep its base close, in a intradimensional time pocket. You're apart from Gallipoli, no longer technically on Earth or in the 1910s. There are multiple segments to this complex base of Regency operations, but you can only really see two places...
THE BRIG
This is your holding cell, a constantly shifting room of indesctructable grey squares. It folds and bends to hold you and your seven companions as you await... something.
There are no guards in this place. There are no bars to look through, or sounds to listen for. You are simply in the box, left to your own devices.
Occasionally, holes will open in the ceiling, and packaged, processed rations will fall from them before immediately closing. This is the only way to measure time. There are always exactly eight bags, each with the name of one captive written on the side in their native language.
Holes will occasionally open in the walls, and they always bring with them a searingly bright light. Sleeping and sitting is difficult on the ever-shifting floors, and when you try, it always seems like a pinhole of light opens right on your eyes. Even leaning on the walls has mixed results.
DON'T GO TOWARDS THE LIGHT
The windows of light that open always stay very small, making it difficult to look through, and always pour radiantly bright, hot light. If you're feeling particularly self-punishing, you might be able to peek at an odd angle and see something of the world outside without being completely flashblinded. The world outside the Brig looks rather like the interior of a Dyson sphere. In the center, a great, bright, hot energy radiates out like a sun, and it reflects off the exterior globe the pocket dimension functions within, illuminating everything from every angle. The Brig floats around it in a slow orbit, as do many other similar looking box-rooms made of similar material, connected by constantly moving tubes and chutes. Some boxes have more chutes going toward them than others. No chutes connect to the Brig, unless someone is about to disappear into the floor...
Getting this view will be difficult, but not impossible; it will just take characters willing to blind themselves with an overabundance of light multiple times until they get the correct angle, allowing them to see outside for roughly a half second before the room shifts to redirect the light back into their eyes.
not so solitary confinement
Occasionally, the cube will split into smaller segments, throwing characters together with others at random in close confinement. This is unpredictable and fast, splitting you off from the whole for what feels like hours at a time, often with only one companion as the cube shifts and squirms around you.
technical malfunction
The power nullification is still in full effect. No magic or special abilities rule this place. Your only master are the walls, undulating with no discernible pattern, always moving.
The Regency has also attempted to break the BCE's translation capabilities, but due to the fact that COST-jailbroken BCEs work on a different system than Regency ones, this is an intermittent problem that occurs sporadically. (ie, have the translation capabilities blink in and out at your discretion.)
THE OTHER PLACE
And then, suddenly, the floor drops out from underneath you. The shifting walls make a hole perfectly your shape and size, and sucks you through. The hole closes neatly, immediately, and you slide along in a world of boxes pressing close to your skin as you are moved from one holding area to another.
When you emerge, you do so in total darkness. Power nullification is still in effect, but even if you can naturally see in the dark, it doesn't matter. All you can see is an endless blackness, and walking doesn't help. You can keep walking for however long; there is nothing to walk to. The floor is perfectly level, but you'll never reach a wall.
Finally, there's light in the distance. A spotlight from nowhere shines down on a person with the head of a jackal. Looking closer, you'll find it's some kind of highly technical mask. They are wearing armor that obscures their exact shape-- no skin shows, no hint of identity or personality, just the cold eyes of the mask. They turn to you, and speak in a voice clear and soothing, almost gentle.
"I am Kebechet. I have been looking forward to speaking with you."
no subject
But, with where they were and with what was happening, it's simply something to do. Something to distract the mind from the fogginess of what the future held.
Often enough he questions the truth of what she says; that she doesn't care about certain things, as not all other factors seem to lead to that selfsame conclusion. He decides to keep quiet on this, however, slipped away as a thought to ruminate upon.
He gives a nod, thinking a moment before continuing.] Your story is still being written. [Perhaps it is not the proper way to view these spirits, given what he knows of their presence here, but it's how he sees it.] Who you were should not be all of who you are to those you know now. For your past actions, you had your reasons. Regardless of these, I am grateful to have you here with us, as you have been.
[From what he has seen, she seems reliable, even if voracious to a point of fault.]
no subject
[ Except she kind of was, even if she has no idea how to feel about his answer. This is the problem with people who don't hate her. ]
I'd rather be here by myself. [ Because everyone else is annoying, she wants to imply. So no one else would be, is what she actually means. ] But I'll manage. You keep managing, too. [ It's all they can really hope for. ]
no subject
Speaking to Mordred is very strange. He is naturally inclined to take her words at face value, but he always gets the feeling that if he does so, he's misunderstanding something.
In the end, he gives a very small, slightly rueful smile.] You are right. I will be more careful in the future.
[He believes he understands what she means in that, too. He decides to be a little more cautious in the way he responds.]
I will. [Though he does think it's best that there is a group of them here. Not for the success of their mission, but for the success of their survival. To be isolated would be a truly dangerous thing.
He settles back against the wall behind him, nodding in Mordred's direction.] I will continue to share what I can, when we are given food. [It is the least he can do in this situation.]