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Your friend is dying. This is his death knell you're listening to.

Last instants before pressure release. The thing building up inside is about to rupture its container in three, two...

You are not ready for this.

Put a stop to this.

A sense of composure bristles through you, strengthening your resolve.

For a long moment, none of the students can tell what's happening. Then, one by one, they realise.

Don't let it beguile you.

There's definitely ants in there. Crawling colonies swarmed in the sticky-sweet syrup that's soaked into the pages... countless tiny horrible legs ready to tickle your skin...

Sure would be a shame if something... happened to it.

But be warned: You may have to read the whole thing.

Keep your gun close.

You should be armed right now. This was a mistake.

The axis of the world inverts on half-muttered sentences.

All around you, an invisible audience leans forwards in their seats.

Ice crystals fractal in your veins.

One more relationship smothered with a pillow and buried in the courtyard.

Further warbling would be a mistake.

Brace yourself.

Whispering to each other in low, urgent tones. They're beginning to panic.

... a shapeless figure twisting in darkness...

The machines are talking about you all.

Savour this moment. One of the old ones of your craft is asking for your opinion.

It sounds so pitifully small now -- 'your thing'.

He doesn't actually think it's 'bon' -- it's one of the strangest things he's heard in his long, strange life.

It's not about contact, it's about scale. If the universe can sustain that much empty space without collapsing, you can take another hour in your own skin.

The air is heavy, your chest tight. You've been holding your breath for approximately an eternity.

La la la. What's the old man on about? You can't hear anything.

You brought that one on yourself.

A name passes through your skull like a ghost, a shiver on its tail.

A bead of cold sweat slides down your back, whispering 'no'.

A tool for a task, nothing more or less.

You could ask about his motivations -- casually, as he asked about yours.

He's not implying anything. Just lean in.

A small comfort: he did not address you by name.

You might still be able to play this off.

Oddly specific.

Which raises an intimidating question...

Did he say... red?

He already knows the truth. He's just waiting for you to confirm.

Fantasies he'll never follow through on.

Prepare yourself for a conversational landmine field.

She intends to do it anyway, no matter what you say.

There may be one less Luzian to worry about if she succeeds.

704 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 13 of 15