As his head slams into the table Blakes mind flutters off into a deep slumber. Leaving the'yre body slumped out cold on the chilling metallic workbench.
The sun's rays crack through the independent Store, almost strategically placed as if Otto himself passes out in the same spot.
A stir to the still muscles, springs life into they're still body. With a long stretch of his arms. Nero lets out a long yawn as he scratches his ass feeling refreshed after that long slumber.
"You really outdid yourself Blake". Nero says in awe wide eyed looking at all the new handmade gear Blake painstakingly made. The remains of the materials used are scattered about like carcasses on the workbench.
"No wonder you ended up blacking out. Don't worry, I'll carry the torch in the meantime and get some good rest. Thank you Blake". Nero says solemnly as he feels pangs of gratitude rack through his chest.
