For an individual capable of surviving the radiation, lack of oxygen and lack of pressure of Space, being stuck in it must be frustrating. It’s sensory deprivation to another level. Regular sensory deprivation is just staying in a soundproof tank in a body temperature slurry that you float in. You still feel gravity. The slurry still lets you hear your heartbeat, and you can still hear your breathing to some level.
But without a heartbeat, without breathing, with no air for sound to pass? I don’t think someone capable of hearing can imagine the complete lack of sound you’d experience in such a situation.
And Khazmiel was currently finding himself in said situation. Ever since Meassael had crippled him, he lacked the transportation powers he had grown accustomed to over the centuries before the mission. And as such, he had to launch himself off the Moon at the right angle and speed to reach Earth. It had so far been a week of traveling. You would hope he would be left with nothing but his thoughts to occupy him. Unfortunately, he had fewer brain cells than a himbo who has one in his heart. His head was as empty as the vacuum around him. A thought had only flashed through it twice during the last week. When Meassael’s scent had reappeared for one night, and then disappeared once again, leaving behind only a faint, unmoving trace. He would have edit his trajectory, had he been capable of it, and aware of how to calculate it, to make him reenter Earth’s atmosphere close to the source of the smell. But currently, he could only hope he hadn’t overshot. If he was capable of hoping.
Surprising everyone who knew him and was aware of him, Khazmiel got an idea. After a week of floating in space, he put two and two together. If Meassael got help from traitors such as the nephilim who put him in this predicament, why couldn’t he get help as well. He tapped into a power he had never considered using. A power he, to be completely honest, had no awareness of owning.
He could hear again. He was aware he was still floating in space, but he could hear again. The sounds of the horrible Fae Realm. And see. Although what he felt was unusual for him. He walked to a pond nearby, and looked within. Satisfied with himself, he ran for the nearest exit, for the path to Chertovice. And all the residents of Wisteria Way ran at the sight of him.
Was this what the mortals and the hellspawn and the ancients referred to as “friendship”?
Because if so, he was thoroughly enjoying his new friend.
... What?
1) How braindead is this guy?
2) Why is he still employed?
3) Who's the friend?
1 - Very
2 - Who says he still is
3 - Wait and see, or join my patreon to catch up to chapter 27
The problem is that he isn't employed.
No one would let a bloodhound of this quality roam around on their own.
@SneezyOfTie i can only take it as one thing- heaven never wanted Khazimel (oh wow, i spelled that right the first time) to kill May's kids, only to do a minor inquiry about why she had so many. But then he f*cked up and decided genocide was a good idea... About as good as his current one.
@Wolfmaster Khazmiel, but good try
@Katie-the-Angel-Witch aw... Almost had it!