[ Qubit, on the other hand, keeps his eyes open. He may not be able to take readings, but he still wants to witness this. The jumbled detritus of other realities, twisting, turning, tumbling around and past and through them, like the untamed chaos of otherspace but raw, unfiltered, trackless. Fragmentary images, intense blasts of color and idea and sound, the taste of subatomic spin, familiar voices -
"Qubit? You're alive!"
He glimpses a purple jacket, bright white hair in the static. He hasn't seen her in over a year, but he'd know her anywhere. ]
Kaidan?
[ God. He didn't realize how much he'd missed her. For a second he's struck with the urge to go to her, find her in the shift and let her pull him back home. But-
Carlisle's tightening fingers and babbling draw him back. No - that's right. People hallucinate during Redshifts. Qubit knows this. He has no proof she's real, as much as he wishes she was. He closes his eyes just for a second, and when he opens them again, she's gone.
His head's spinning, but he focuses on the stream of words, only vaguely keeping track of the story. Pendlebrook Brimstone, his planar rift, his watch - whether truth or legend, it grounds him the same way his presence grounds Carlisle. This man is real, and for now, Qubit has a duty to him. ]
It is fine, Carlisle. You're doing well. Keep it up. Not much longer.
[ He's surprised by the solidness of his own voice. It's certainly more than he feels. ]
1/2
"Qubit? You're alive!"
He glimpses a purple jacket, bright white hair in the static. He hasn't seen her in over a year, but he'd know her anywhere. ]
Kaidan?
[ God. He didn't realize how much he'd missed her. For a second he's struck with the urge to go to her, find her in the shift and let her pull him back home. But-
Carlisle's tightening fingers and babbling draw him back. No - that's right. People hallucinate during Redshifts. Qubit knows this. He has no proof she's real, as much as he wishes she was. He closes his eyes just for a second, and when he opens them again, she's gone.
His head's spinning, but he focuses on the stream of words, only vaguely keeping track of the story. Pendlebrook Brimstone, his planar rift, his watch - whether truth or legend, it grounds him the same way his presence grounds Carlisle. This man is real, and for now, Qubit has a duty to him. ]
It is fine, Carlisle. You're doing well. Keep it up. Not much longer.
[ He's surprised by the solidness of his own voice. It's certainly more than he feels. ]