[i]Drake sat on a stone protrusion, sticking up from the ground, like an oasis in the dank, dimly lit temple. From his prosthetic hand, he tries to create another projection, but only sparks come out, looking more like a dying firecracker than the impressive hologram he had created earlier. Though you tried to be quiet, he head Sawyer's footsteps, as well as familiar whoosh of the Arrowhead touching down. He doesn't turn to face you, but he clearly addresses you,[/i] "When Jim died, he gave me his powers with his dying breath. I didn't know how to use them, but when I was escaping from that facility, I felt... amazing. I disintegrated everything I touched, I could blast beams of energy from my palms, and I could create these things that I never thought was possible. But... I didn't know how to control any of it. It was like an explosion of energy, and now that the blast is gone, I can't make anything happen. As the crew's residential warlock, I fired that you could help."