It had all happened too fast for Setkh to glimpse, or even gain a sliver of comprehension as to how or why it had all gone down.
All he knew was that he had been sitting in the lounge of his new home, awaiting the silver spatial light that would take him to the Venue for the Premium Age Royale when a torrent of pain suddenly assaulted his body in fragmented bits of time.
Or, was it that he experienced how his body got diced in spaced out intervals of time?
He didn't know which was which.
It was a pity, really.
Here he had been, anticipating another uncomfortable stretch of hours where he would have to sit with Stylla who would be carrying clouds of gloom, most of them stabbing at his skin from a seat away.