*Max sets alone in his office, the lights off all over the basement. Resting in the high-backed office chair in complete darkness, he stares off into the formless dark, eyes trying to focus on the unseen wall of his office. As he has for hours upon hours since his transformation into a Khabiat, he stares into the darkness, attempting to will his eyes to focus on the unseen shapes inside his offer. So far, only hours of failure have been the results.


Max sighs, the sound echoing off the cool stone walls of the subterranean office, the soft reverb seeming all the louder due to Max's sensory deprivation. He'd done this for at least an hour every night he could, trying to tap into the newly awakened powers in his blood. Aziz, his Sire, had told him of the powers of the Asps, their ability to see, and eventually interact with, the ghosts that existed in the world. The events of recent nights had pulled his existence in a new, unexpected direction; forcing him in new directions of study while leaving others dormant. And so, here Max sat, night after night, trying to force yet more changes on his undead body.


He had made some progress, he could already feel the shadows wrapping tighter around him now, obscuring his features from the world even more so that just the vampiric condition afforded. Kine seemed to over look him unless he drew attention to himself, unconsciously moving out of his way as he walked among them. He could only hope the worm monsters that attacked him at the Asylum would do the same. Max stares off into the darkness, losing his concentration on trying to see and thinking back to that night.


No weapon could harm them, only the powers of the Dr seemed to stop the strange creatures. Powers of the blood Max did not have access to. Instead, he would have to rely on his own ingenuity to save himself if another attack came. That, and a lot of time in the gym...


But none of that would matter if Max couldn't master the first simple steps of looking into the Twilight, in seeing and sensing the dangers that were more present than even in that hidden domain. He closes his eyes, rubbing them as fatigue and frustration sets in. Perhaps Max shouldn't have killed his Sire all those decades ago. Just cut off his arms and legs. He could have kept Aziz in a steamer trunk, nice and portable...


Max cuts the wishful thinking short, returning to staring at the far wall. Still darkness, not detail, no hint of what waited out there in the unlit confines of his office. Nothing but his cell phone setting on his desk... Max jerks his head back to his desk, making sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, that the long hours of sensory deprivation hadn't finally driven the Mekhet mad.


No, there it was; the faint outline of his Iphone. It's only a grey, ghostly image of the cell phone, monochrome and almost flat; but details quickly begin to come into focus. The felt ink bloater on which the phone rested, spreading out to the laptop, the edge of the desk. Max is silent with awe as his office springs to live before him, his vision shifting to see different shades of black; ebony, jet, sable and hundreds more than mortal language can name, each with its own tint and texture.


He reaches down, wrapping fingers around the outline of the phone; making sure what he saw was real, feeling the weight and heft of the device in his hand. He looks around the room in wonder, able to see everything as clearly as if the lights were on. Max could only smile, the first step on a long road to come...*