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<Skin to bone, steel to rust…>
(‘Why am I doing this?’, thought Zed. ‘Having more questions than answers is normal… and I could try working this out on my own.’)
<Ash to ashes, dust to dust…>
(‘It won’t be like last time I called – when /this/ happens, it means a face-to-face chat. I don’t think…’)
<Let tomorrow has its way, with the promises we make…>
(‘… The journey’s first step… right, hahh…’)
<Skin to bone, steel to rust…>
As the last line left Zed’s lips, the mirror stopped showing his reflection and changed in someone. He knew he’d never recall her appearance – and that he would still feel a nagging urge to do so. For now, he gritted his teeth, lit up, and blew smoke on the mirror.
<DID YOU LIKE MY SINGING VOICE, YOUNGLING?>
<It’s unforgettable, powerful, and just about drained my cheer away. Why the mental call? Why am I still strengthened against Hey Daze’s touch?>
<MMMM. YOU’RE ASKING THE RIGHT QUESTIONS. IT IS BECAUSE TIME IS RUNNING OUT. THE DEMONS ARE COMING THROUGH, IN PREPARATION FOR THE GRAND FINALE.>
(‘That’s odd’, thought Zed. ‘I’d feel safe betting that the [Grand Finale] isn’t something she wants to come about. Maybe…’)
Grounding out the butt, he uncorked the flask and half-filled his glass. <To a life well-lived!>
<TO A DEATH MOST REWARDING… [chuckle]>
<… Is that the hint? What’s coming? Why do you have my back for this?>
<SHADOWRUN… ZED… SOMETIMES THE STAKES ARE TOO FAR-REACHING – WE ALL HAVE THINGS WE WANT DONE. AND IF YOUR SIDE DOESN’T WIN… >
<Oh… I think I got that, but I really hope I’m hearing wrong. Any chance I can- >
<EYES AND EARS, ZED. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GOOD AT – GO HELP BLOOD CLAN AND THE KINGDOM OF LOATHING. >
<Of course… And I’ll miss having this glimpse of you, but … I’ll wait.>
At that, Death started to smile. <WON’T BE LONG FOR ME, LOVERBOY.>
Dark, ominous and stylish. And to the point. I like that sometimes. Speaking of to the point, next up is another solo, but this time it's Sir Fumblies. (Well... I helped write a few NPC's for it.)
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