Aleksa's wears a set air of determination upon her face, yet her hands clutch each other and twist together while she walks down the long white paneled corridor. A soft thud vibrates through the hall, and she slows her steps, listening. The closer she gets, the more those thuds increase in volume until the very floor and walls resounds. Alarm rising, she breaks into a short sprint, then swings her hand frantically in front of the screen which should, once she figures it out, open the door.
"Vladie," she calls. "Vladie!" Just as she raises a fist to pound on the offending surface, it slides back, and she nearly falls into the room. To her left, the massive form of the sargon wielding an overly large sword, spins in some martial manevuer, followed by an even more complex move involving claws and tail, all aimed at attacking the tall, but frail, figure of Vladie, swinging a much smaller weapon. "No!" she cries out, "Vladie!" as the sargon completes her swing, landing like thunder.
"What?" comes a squeaking, irritated reply from behind Aleksa. Her head swivels toward the sound, momentarily bemused. He reclines amongst the cushions, grin splitting his face, fingers flying over a earth style gaming controller. "I'm on a roll!"
"What are you doing?"
"Training!"
"Well, stop!" And now she notices that, besides the luxuries of the upholstery, a hasty pile of sneakers sits upon the floor, while at least a dozen sport coats grace the arms of the couch, and leaning against the wall, the gleaming body and handle bars of a...
"Is that a motorcycle?"
"Yeah!" Valdie crows with delight. "That machine over there," and he favors a section of the wall, a large panel darker than the rest, with a quick nod, "can make anything!"
"Your cousin is missing, and you are here building trinkets?"
"No, well, yes, well, fine," and he lays the controller aside, his doppelganger stopping in mid swing, "what do you want?"
"Nothing from you," Aleksa responds more harshly than she had intended, but has no patience to make amends with Vladie. "You," and she turns to the sargon who has paused, sword resting over one shoulder, to face the two of them. Realizing how rude apprehension has left her, Aleksa takes a deep breath before continuing. "I don't believe I was given your name."
"Aknet"
"Well, Aknet, I've heard nothing. I must know. Please. Help me find out what is happening to my daughter."