O-Yama watches all this with interest, wondering what this process was for. Technology was still slightly new to him, over five hundred years of the world's progress made nearly everything new to him.
O-Yama looks at Mel, smiling a little at the kindred humming along with the tune. Insanity is sometimes a blessing, in Mel's case, a very good one. O-Yama begins looking around, looking for something that would give him the advantage he needed to get out of this little corner of hell. Something that would let him get to Bethem and drink the bastard dry...
Mel is silent for a time, then he mutters, slowly and in a deep voice:
"The owls! They are coming.
The worms! They are here.
For all our kind,
The end is quite near.
The Brood of the Demon,
Their test is for all,
Destruction,
And Ruin.
Society's fall."
O-Yama listens to Mel mutter the little ditty. The words hit him... hard.
Speak of a warlock from the scientists
Mel muttering about the Brood of the Demon.
What if these kine bastards were not merely hunters, but operatives of the Brood? O-Yama's mind began racing, thinking of every possibility. He looks around, hoping against odds for a miracle, something that could help him. What was the muttering one's name? Mel? Yes, that was it, Mel.
"Mel, Mel speak to me. Tell me what it is that is going on, tell me about the Brood of the Demon, and how they're tied to this."
"I-I-I-I- d-don't know," Mel mutters, his voice higher-pitched now. "I see everything, so much, i-i-i-t's ... overwhelming. I see so many things I can't keep them straight... and the ghosts, they... they tell me things, show me things..."
After a pause, he continues, very quietly... almost a whisper. "Sometimes, I think it all connects... everything I see is all part of the same thing. But sometimes it looks like different things, a-a-a-and sometimes... sometimes parts of it seem not real... did I make them up? Did I make all of it up?"
"Sometimes I think I've lost my mind..." he whispers. He says nothing more, but after a couple minutes, he starts to giggle.
Mel says nothing for awhile, then his eyes roll back and he grins. "The poor lad's gone away. His damaged mind can't handle much. It's just us ghosts now."