For a long while, Lucius tried running through different 'feelings'; happiness, sadness, joy, anger... With each attempt, he would dig up some old memory to increase its intensity, though no matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to get it right.
He had assumed that heartache... sadness would be the answer. After all, he had experienced a great amount of that... the death of his wife, of his child, of his comrades. Though all those deaths meant nothing to his 'change'.
It was as if his 'emotions' were going through a filter, and none of them were being let through. Though whenever he relaxed, eased up on trying to force his way toward the storage area, a certain feeling was being drawn in.
The feeling of disconnect, of loss... the same feeling that constantly followed him back in his old world... the feeling of 'wander'... or so he called it. There was no better way describe it. He felt like a wanderer, a being with no real purpose but to go where life takes him.
