As the smoke cleared, Mr. Bedlam was revealed, sitting amongst the rubble, rain dripping off his face and down his armor, “I may have gone a bit overboard,” Mr. Bedlam chuckled to himself.
Jefferson.
Mr. Bedlam reached up and tapped his shoulder. A small orb materialized on top of the spot he touched. A steady blue light turned on at the center, “What is it, Athena?”
There is an urgent communication for you at the Inquisition.
Mr. Bedlam slowly stands up and stretches his arms up to the sky, “Whatever it is, it can wait, I need a drink,” Mr. Bedlam thinks about how many Lessers he had to interact with, and the fact that he was forced to visit some backwater cesspool, “and… a shower.”
Mr. Bedlam starts the long walk back to the crash site of the Broadsword, where he can hear cheers of victory rising over the endless rain.
Apologies, Jefferson.
Mr. Bedlam lets out an exasperated sigh, he can see the Inquisition just over the hill, “Seriously, Athena, I’ll take it later.”