AN: Another short chapter, just to round out the current story beats.

I think I need to write a new story, not that I'm completely stopping with this one. I have lots of new inspiration so expect something relatively soon! :)

The next thing I knew my hands were bound behind my back in handcuffs. There was something about the man currently giving me a death glare that struck me as familiar. Like I'd seen him before.

We were in a bulkhead, judging by the view out the window, heading towards Vale. Two robot soldiers sat on either side of me, their guns pointed directly at my head. I matched the man's glare with my own, if only to hide my fear.

After a few minutes, we arrived at a much larger ship. I was escorted to a small, almost cupboard sized, cell and thrown inside.

I don't know how much time passed, probably a few hours. But I heard voices, something about the Vital festival. A few moments later the sound of a door opening, followed by the exchanging of voices.

Soon I fell asleep, having nothing else to do and only the hrum of the ship to listen to. My dreams were strange, not that they are ever normal, however this one was particularly different.

I saw my weapon, but it felt different, distant. I reached out to it, and it seemed just out of reach. I took a step forward, it moved further back. Even as I began sprinting towards it, it remained just out of reach. Suddenly, Void Singer dissolved leaving only darkness.

I found myself falling. There was no light or wind to tell me that I was, only the feeling of weightlessness. I could have been floating, yet that didn't feel quite right. Yes. I was definitely falling. I kept falling for what felt like eternity, and also no time at all.

When I stopped falling I hit the cold metal floor of my cell. Pulling myself up, I stared at the door of my container as thoughts began whirling through my mind. My team probably thought I was dead. I fell at least a mile, if not more. How did I survive..?

That question resounded through my mind, reverberating in an echo. Some instinct must have kicked in, my mana? I know I can make a shield, so did I make one strong enough to survive that fall? How? So far a shield has only withstood a few strikes at a time before shattering.

Then there was that wall, I didn't really think about it at the time, but it definitely did something. When I try to picture the sigil carved into it my eye burns. Neither hot nor cold, and extreme in both at the same time. Weird...

My mind drifted around for a while, pondering on these things while I slipped into a meditative state, playing with my mana. I shifted it around, condensing it in places before shifting it around. After a while and having little else to do inside a box barely larger than a coffin, I leaned against my container's back wall, being lulled back into slumber by the hum of engines.