A flash of gold light against the velvet backdrop of Earth's moonlit night, Seirinn's spectral avatar snapped from the chest of a Warframe, solidifying and resolving; red-enameled trim glinting from traditional armor in the ghostly light of the Sentient-stones marking the entrance to Onkko's sanctum. As her feet settled firmly against the ground, her slim, almost frail form and delicate motions contrasted against the sure stance of her Warframe, which glimmered with the remnants of fading Transference energy, thoughts still stretching across space to join with hers.

She flicked a brief sense of her plans toward the recesses of the Warframe's tranquil mind; Limbo was quiet and calculating; unlike Umbra, he was unlikely to intervene under his own authority unless the situation became truly dire or his curiosity got the better of him, but she still did so out of courtesy for his status as an independent mind and a sense of basic security; telling a powerful friend where you plan to go and when you will return is a very simple way of forestalling attempts at kidnapping or over-long detainment. Not that she expected trouble; Cetus' protective force-field was supported by the absolute authority of the Tower, which even the savage Grineer ghouls respected, and Onkko was a trusted ally (insofar as the Tenno trusted anyone).

Despite their tentative alliance, however, Seirinn was not fond of Onkko. Inasmuch as she could be said to be fond of anything, she was fond of Ordis and her Warframes…as well as a few others, but Onkko…he was one of the Quills, and that knowledge prickled her spine with unease whenever they had dealings in person.

For the Quills represented both a reminder and a threat; a reminder of the tragic past of her kind; the slaughter the Ten-Zero survivors had wrought upon the Orokin. For it was a slaughter, after all; once it had begun, the Orokin realized their creation could not be controlled, as they had discovered once before, and they poured all their vast talents into defeating the Tenno before the tools could destroy the craftsmen.

The Tenno were, of course, victorious, but not entirely so; like their mother before them, they faltered at the last moment and spared the last remnant of their foe, which remained in quiet slumber, watching over the simple innocents the Orokin once ruled.

A reminder, yes…and a threat: The Unum, the mind of the last untainted Orokin Tower, could even yet rejoin its forgotten companions in the Void and bring forth an army of the Corrupted to reassert Orokin dominance in the Origin System. The Quills might uncover secrets which could destroy the carefully-upheld balance of power the Tenno worked so hard to maintain. These possibilities and other, less-likely scenarios, disturbed Seirinn's thoughts beneath her elegant façade.

Today was routine, however, and Seirinn moved swiftly toward Onkko's primary interface. His usual greeting was returned with her usual perfunctory silence as she applied her somatic implants to indicate which wares she would be purchasing. A stockpile of Arcanes for her personal weaponry, this time. With the Sentient rising to begin a new war, her Void combat potential needed to be at its peak. Her business completed, Seirinn turned to leave.

"A moment, if you please, traveler," Onkko said.

For a moment, Seirinn glanced back, cocking a slender, Void-scarred eyebrow. "Hm?"

"The Unum sends a warning," the masked representative said. "Do you wish to hear it?"

"But of course," Seirinn replied smoothly, turning fully to face the Quill head-on, "This Dreamer will hear the voice of the Tower. Speak."

"War is coming. You know this. The mother of the Dreamers mourned her seared womb, comforting herself with the empty adulation of abandoned children. But her progenitor has returned, restoring what was lost, and bringing with it the cruelty of a mother who has cast the cuckoo's brood aside to feed her own hatchlings. The Lotus is no more. Natah has returned." Onkko bowed his head in deference. "We are sorry for your heartache, but the Unum speaks true."

Seirinn did not answer, for she was gone. Dismissing the courtesy of walking back to the entrance, she simply dismissed the distant avatar of herself, returning to an unsteady Transference in Limbo, the Warframe's soothing, quiet thoughts tempering her own agitation.

"Ordis," her true body spoke on the Liset. "Compose a message for the Tenno. Compress it as much as possible and run it through the strongest encryption you can devise within the next twenty-four hours, then send it to every Dreamer in the system. Include the log of my most recent conversation with Onkko. Send the Landing Craft to retrieve Limbo. And please refrain from simulating the Lotus' voice until further notice."

Ordis' response rang from the speakers. "Understood, Operator. Shall I prepare the ship for jump?"

"No, I'll be taking Harrow to Iron Wake. Try to play nice with Helminth until I get back. I would hate for our new 'guest' to have to find us a new ship."

"A guest, Operator? I will -TEAR THE INTRUDER TO- welcome them, but they will need a place to stay, and the Operator's quarters are not quite…fully furnished, to say the least."

"Oh, I don't think it'll be a problem. Our guest will be…most unusual." The raven-haired operator smirked wickedly, eyes flashing with their signature golden glow.

"Oh, I have a bad feeling about this…" Ordis moaned pitifully.