Limping across the lengths of the gargantuan cathedral, Remirg was having a hard time using Prana Presence. The stump which had replaced his right hand made him toil for balance. His body having now attained an asymmetrical shape, his center of mass had shifted a bit significantly.
His hair was a little mangled and beads of sweat were breaking out of his pale face, his body still rejuvenating his scarce blood supply.
It had been an hour since he had been investigating the facade of the temple, unable to grasp any way to enter or barge into the structure. He had made no progress at all, after having dealt with the wraiths.
The sky, which Remirg supposed to be, didn't change even a fraction of its hue and was still resolutely grey. The fog was still resolutely thick, giving the impression that time itself had stopped in the space around him.
The only change which had occurred to him was a notification which was sent by the Simulator to him.
