The Skiff roared over the Osmium Throne, a large, metal coffin carrying the remains of Oryx's blade back to the base. The Eliksni crew sat, tired from loading the sword in such a short amount of time. But Beowulf sat in fear. He needed to keep her occupied, long enough so that the blade could be safely locked away in the chambers of his Ketch. Hopefully that wouldn't take too long. He lifted himself from the ground, opening one last rift, an empty Skiff flying through. The Fallen looked at their Kell, eager to serve. [b][i]"Go back to the Ketch."[/i][/b] They gazed in confusion. They could feel it too— the stench of the light, burning their skin! They needed this fight! But alas, it was for naught. [b][i]"I must do this alone."[/i][/b] He turned around, summoning a new rift. He walked through, exiting at the final portal. It was time for a reunion.