[b][i][u]"This place will do. I am in control of this room, sorcerer. If you came here to day something, then say it."[/u][/i][/b] Noiratrom's Ceramic white armour was molding, adjusting to his changes. His armour was growing and evolving, going from sickly and plagued to clean, pristine. He wore an interesting piece of equipment... it had been enlarged by his warp powers and altered to match the white armour he wore. But it remained nonetheless the Helm of Alpharius. His eyes pierced through the darkness of the helmet, each eye was like a miniature eye of terror, encompassing entire solar systems, planets, worlds, loving beings. Gates to the Warp.