The noise in his mind rose and fell erratically, as though a massive source of disturbance would occasionally draw near or recede from the confines of his brain. The view of the antique shop remained steady, yet every now and then, dark things would flicker between the shelves, seemingly eager to expose the perilous truths of Subspace to any overbold Visitor.
Morris sat warily in front of the counter, restraining his thoughts and emotions. In the fleeting sanity granted by the God of Wisdom Rahm, he pondered over each question with his limited yet earnest intellect.
The conversation continued, and until "Mr. Duncan"—facing him—was satisfied, Morris, as a "chat companion," was obliged to keep him company.
However, Duncan was silent at the moment—caught in his own contemplation, considering matters related to the Black Sun and the pollution of history.
