Chapter 15: Wolfsbane

  The bathroom door opened and Martinez stepped out.

  Bright was sitting on the edge of the bed beside Cherry, checking the battery indicator with the automatic habit of someone checking a wound, and he looked up.

  He looked back down.

  Then he looked up again, because his brain had registered something on the first pass that warranted a second look.

  The bridesmaid's dress was a deep shimmery green that caught the last of the afternoon light coming through the tall windows. Cocktail length. The leg slit ran to mid-thigh on the left side, which also happened to be the side with the healing brace, which she'd apparently decided was a feature rather than a problem. Her hair was down — he hadn't seen it down before, it had been tied back or hidden under a helmet every time he'd encountered her — and it was longer than he'd expected, dark and still slightly damp.

  She'd found something in the bathroom cabinet. Minimal. Just enough to look like she hadn't spent the afternoon being attacked by goblins.

  She stood in the doorway with her weight on her good leg and looked at him looking at her.

  "So," she said. "How do I look?"

  Bright considered the question with the same honest attention he gave most things.

  "Good," he said. "You look good."

  That's a nice dress. Cherry would look ravishing in it.

  She held his gaze and took one step into the room. Then another. Her chin was slightly up — that controlled, deliberate quality she brought to everything, except now it had a different register to it.

  "Just good?"

  "Really good." He turned back to the battery indicator. "Battery's healthy, but getting low. I need to find a power source before—"

  "Bright."

  Something in her voice made him look up again. She'd closed about half the distance between the doorway and the bed. She wasn't moving like someone with a broken leg anymore — the healing was far enough along that she could move with something approaching her natural gait, and her natural gait, he was noticing, was quite deliberate.

  "Have you ever," she said carefully, "actually been with a woman?"

  Bright blinked. "Sorry?"

  "A human woman. Have you."

  "I'm in a relationship," he said.

  She glanced at Cherry on the bed beside him. Back at him. She took another step.

  "Right. But you're not completely married yet," she said. "Bright." Another step. She was close now — close enough that he could smell whatever she'd found in the bathroom cabinet, something floral and hotel-generic. "Do I look good in this dress."

  "You look great," he said. "But Cherry—"

  "Her name's, Cherry?" She said it not unkindly, just turning it over. "Cherry. Hm." Testing the shape of it. "Bright. I'm right here." She gestured at herself — the dress, the hair, all of it. The gesture of someone who knew exactly what they were offering. "And I'm more than willing to help you consummate. I don't mind if... Cherry doesn't mind."

  I MIND.

  The words detonated through Cherry's consciousness with a force that scattered everything else entirely.

  I MIND ENORMOUSLY. I MIND WITH EVERY PART OF WHATEVER I AM. I MIND SO MUCH THAT I AM CURRENTLY DISCOVERING ENTIRELY NEW DIMENSIONS OF MINDING—

  She'd been following the conversation from the moment the bathroom door opened. She'd heard the dress question and the just good and the slow deliberate footsteps and she'd been building toward something that she could only describe as incandescent.

  Her name's Cherry. Said in that tone. That testing, slightly dismissive tone.

  Yes. Her name is Cherry. His WIFE'S name is Cherry. The woman wearing the ring that is currently on her finger — MY finger — MY ring — MY husband—

  She focused every available fragment of her consciousness on Bright's mana core, willing him with everything she had.

  Bright. Don't let this fleshy temptress near you. Do not. Do not. Do NOT—

  Bright looked at Martinez.

  He looked at her for a long moment with an expression that was completely kind and completely immovable.

  "Martinez," he said gently. "No."

  She held his gaze. Something moved across her face — not hurt exactly, more like a recalibration. She'd read the situation incorrectly and she was updating.

  "Come on Bright, she's a—" she started.

  "She's Cherry," he said simply. Not defensively. Just as a statement of fact that contained everything he needed to say on the subject.

  Martinez looked at him for another moment. Then she exhaled through her nose — a short, controlled sound that might have been a laugh in a different situation — and looked at the ceiling.

  "Right," she said.

  "You'll find someone," he said.

  "Oh don't." But it wasn't hostile. She took a step back. "Don't do the nice thing, it's worse."

  "Sorry."

  She turned away, ran a hand through her damp hair, and looked out the tall windows at the grounds below. She sighed. "Forget about it."

  Bright looked out the same window.

  And stopped.

  "There," he said.

  She turned. "What?"

  He was already crossing to the window, leaning forward, his entire attention snapping to something in the grounds below. A small outbuilding set back from the hotel's east face, maybe forty metres across the gravel. Low roof. Ventilation louvres along the side. A heavy-duty cable trunking running from it back into the hotel's external wall.

  "Generator shed," he said. The battery indicator was already up in his vision. "That's a generator shed."

  Martinez stared at it. Then at him. Then at Cherry on the bed.

  Then she closed her eyes briefly.

  "Fuck my life," she said quietly. She opened her eyes. "End of the world and I'm not even getting any." She turned and began a slightly uneven walk toward the wardrobe. "I'm going to go see if there are any toys in the bedside table. You go do what you need to do, Bright."

  "Martinez—"

  "Go." She waved a hand without turning around. "Charge your wife. Save the world. Leave me to my dignity."

  She pulled the wardrobe open with slightly more force than necessary.

  Bright looked at Cherry.

  Cherry lay on the rose petals with the pink tungsten ring on her finger and her face entirely peaceful and Bright felt the particular quality of warmth in his chest that he always felt when he looked at her.

  "Come on then," he said. "Let's get you charged."

  Oh thank the gods, Cherry thought.

  He gathered everything efficiently — the pack, the charging cable, Cherry herself lifted from the rose petals and settled into the pack with her hat adjusted and her hair smoothed. The ring caught the light as he zipped the pack partially closed and left the top open so she could see out, the way he always did when he was moving somewhere he felt was safe enough.

  He paused at the door.

  "Martinez."

  She was sitting on the edge of the bed now, the wardrobe search apparently abandoned, looking at the window with the specific expression of someone processing several things at once.

  "I'll be right outside," he said. "Forty metres. I'll leave the window open — shout if anything comes near the building."

  She nodded. Her jaw was set. She was back to herself — whatever the last ten minutes had been, she'd filed it and moved on. He respected that about her.

  "I'll come down in a bit," she said.

  He went.

  The gravel crunched under his feet as he crossed the grounds in the long golden late-afternoon light. The hotel cast a long shadow eastward. The generator shed was padlocked — a heavy-duty padlock, the kind that meant business — and he spent approximately four seconds looking at it before picking up a decorative stone from the flower bed beside the path and solving the problem directly.

  Inside: a commercial diesel generator, large and well-maintained, the kind of unit that got serviced regularly because it got used regularly. A panel with clear labelling. An instruction placard laminated and bolted to the wall above it. A fuel gauge on the tank showing approximately three-quarters full.

  He exhaled.

  Three-quarters full. Someone had filled it for the wedding weekend and never had the chance to use it.

  Bright set the pack down against the wall, opened it fully, found the charging port on Cherry's lower back, connected the cable, and ran it to the power outlet on the generator's output panel.

  He read the instructions twice — he always read things twice — then worked through the startup sequence. Prime the fuel. Check the oil level. Open the choke. The start switch was a key-turn ignition, and the key was in it, because of course it was, this was a hotel utility shed and nobody expected to need to steal a generator.

  He turned the key.

  The generator caught on the second attempt — a cough, a rumble, and then a sustained mechanical roar that filled the shed and rolled out across the grounds.

  The charging indicator on her back glowed green.

  CHARGING.

  He let out a breath he'd been holding since the motorway.

  Then every light in the hotel came on simultaneously.

  And the alarm started.

  It wasn't a subtle alarm. It was a full wedding venue fire alarm system — multiple speakers, multiple zones, designed to be heard from every corner of a building full of people celebrating loudly. In the silence of the Hampshire countryside it was extraordinary. A wall of sound that hit him in the chest and kept hitting.

  DANGER SENSE — ACTIVATED

  Not a flicker. A full blaze. Red and insistent and painting a very clear picture of what was happening in the middle distance.

  He spun to the shed's small window.

  Through the trees, maybe three hundred metres north along the tree line, something was moving. Multiple somethings. Low to the ground, fast, coordinating — the specific fluid movement of pack hunters that had just been given a bearing by the loudest possible signal.

  Wolves. Or wolf-shaped things. The System was already trying to resolve them at this range.

  ENEMY IDENTIFIED: MANA WOLVES (PACK)Level: 9-12

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Threat Level: HIGH

  Pack Behaviour: Coordinated hunting formation. Alpha present. Extreme caution advised.

  He looked at Cherry.

  The charging indicator glowed steady green. The battery number was already climbing — slowly, but climbing.

  He looked at the wolves.

  He looked at the hotel.

  He thought about Martinez alone in the honeymoon suite in a bridesmaid dress with an empty sidearm and a leg that was still sixty percent healed and absolutely nothing between her and whatever came through the door.

  He thought about Cherry in this shed, door shut, no danger sense, no ability to move or call out, just the green light and the climbing number and the roar of the generator.

  He crouched in front of the pack. Found her face. Looked at her properly.

  "I'm sorry," he said. The alarm was enormous around him, filling everything, and he raised his voice over it. "I'm sorry. You're going to be safe in here — door shut, nothing can smell you over this engine, nobody's coming for a generator shed when there's a whole hotel to go at." He pressed his lips to her forehead, held them there for a moment. "I won't leave you long. I just have to at least try. I can't—"

  He stopped.

  "If it's too dangerous, I'll run back and we'll just hide. But I can't just sit here while she—"

  He stood. Checked his knife. Checked his mana.

  MP: 91/100

  "I'll be back," he said. "I promise."

  He pulled the shed door shut behind him and ran.

  Bright...

  She felt his mana signature receding — that familiar warmth moving away from her, fast, his core spiking with the sharp-edged frequency she'd learned to associate with combat focus. Moving toward the hotel.

  She reached for the mana vibrations. The hearing. At this range, through the generator noise and the alarm and the walls between them, she got fragments — not words, just frequencies. Fear. Determination. The specific bright edge of someone who had decided to do something difficult.

  Then he was out of range entirely.

  She was alone with the generator roar and the alarm and the green charging light and the number climbing one minute at a time.

  Come back, she thought into the silence. Please come back.

  She held the suppression tight — she'd activated it the moment the generator started, the moment she'd felt the wolf signatures converging in her mana perception. Holding herself silent. Invisible. A still point in the noise.

  Come back to me.

  She started counting.

  The hotel's main entrance was open — he'd left it that way and was glad of it. He went through fast and low, knife out, his Combat Awareness painting the building in information.

  Ground floor. Multiple signatures. Moving fast through the space, spreading out, following their noses through rooms and corridors.

  Kitchen. Most of them in the kitchen.

  He moved down the service corridor, Danger Sense running hot, his footsteps masked by the alarm that was still going everywhere, every speaker in the building doing its job. He reached the kitchen doorway and stopped.

  Looked in.

  Blood on the floor. Chunks of flesh. Dark wet streaks across the tile from the doorway to the centre of the room where the prep counters were. The wolves — four of them visible, large, dark-furred, a pack hunters mid-feed, tearing at something on the floor with focused, business like violence.

  Oh no-wait.

  Packets of raw meat. Scattered across the tile in deliberate pattern — away from the walk-in cooler, toward the centre of the room.

  He registered this. Filed it. Felt something release slightly in his chest.

  She baited them.

  He was already backing up when the doorway behind him darkened.

  He turned.

  The pack leader filled the corridor.

  Bigger than the others — significantly bigger, its shoulder at his chest height, its eyes burning with the steady controlled intensity of something that had been dominant since its creation and expected to remain so. Dark fur, almost black, with a silver streak running from its skull to its shoulders. Its eyes caught the emergency lighting.

  It looked at him.

  It looked at the knife in his hand.

  And it began to walk toward him. Slowly. No rush. The pace of something that had done this before and knew exactly how it ended.

  ENEMY IDENTIFIED: MANA WOLF — ALPHA

  Level: 12

  Threat Level: VERY HIGH

  Note: Alpha wolves possess enhanced mana abilities. Approach with extreme caution.

  Bright's back hit the wall behind him. He had space — maybe six metres of corridor between him and the thing — and he had a knife and ninety-one MP and a passive combat awareness that was telling him the rest of the pack was still in the kitchen, still feeding, not yet alerted to him.

  He shaped a Mana Blade in his palm. Watched the Alpha's eyes track the glow.

  The Alpha's pace didn't change.

  Bright threw the blade.

  The Alpha moved its head. Just slightly. The blade flew past its ear and buried itself in the wall behind it.

  The Alpha kept walking.

  Uhoh. Bright thought. That's not good.

  He was already forming the second blade when the walk-in cooler door peeled open.

  Martinez came out of the cooler the way twelve years of military service exits a confined space under pressure — fast, low, already committed.

  She had the sword in both hands and she knew exactly what she was going to do.

  She glanced at him. Almost smiled at his look of surprise at her and the sword— it had been mounted in one of the rooms she'd scouted earlier, a display piece, a ceremonial cavalry sabre mounted on the wall above the pass-through, the kind of thing a wedding venue put up for atmosphere. She'd taken it down before the wolves came. Before she'd laid the meat trail. Before she'd shut herself in the cooler.

  She'd already planned it and several other options before she'd watched this handsome idiot civilian propose to his 'Cherry'.

  The Alpha had its back to the cooler. It was focused entirely on Bright, on the mana blade forming in his palm, on the specific threat calculation of a human with abilities — and it never heard her over the alarm, never registered the cooler door, never even twitched an ear.

  The sword went in at the base of the skull.

  Martinez drove it with everything she had — both hands, full body weight, twelve years of maintained physical conditioning and the specific desperate strength of someone who has been through a very bad afternoon and is done with it.

  The Alpha dropped.

  Not slowly. Immediately. Like a switch.

  The alarms blanketed the noise of the kill.

  ENEMY DEFEATED: MANA WOLF — ALPHA

  INSTANT KILL

  +2,200 XP

  CLEAN KILL BONUS FOR ELENA MARTINEZ +2,200

  SOLO KILL BONUS FOR ELENA MARTINEZ +1,100

  LEVEL UP! SERGEANT ELENA MARTINEZ IS NOW LEVEL 3!

  LEVEL UP! SERGEANT ELENA MARTINEZ IS NOW LEVEL 4!

  LEVEL UP! SERGEANT ELENA MARTINEZ IS NOW LEVEL 5!

  LEVEL UP! SERGEANT ELENA MARTINEZ IS NOW LEVEL 6!

  LEVEL UP! SERGEANT ELENA MARTINEZ IS NOW LEVEL 7!

  NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: BLADE DANCE

  A fluid combat style that transforms momentum into strikes. Enhanced movement speed during sustained melee. Consecutive hits generate increasing damage multipliers.

  NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: COMBAT SPEED

  Movement speed permanently increased by 35%. Reaction time enhanced.

  WEAPON EVOLUTION TRIGGERED!

  NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: FRONTLINE (PASSIVE)

  Holding position for 2 seconds grants 1 stack of Frontline (max 4). Each stack reduces damage taken by 5% and increases knockback resistance. Allies positioned directly behind Elena inherit 50% of her damage reduction.

  NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: KILL CHAIN (PASSIVE)

  Each confirmed kill restores 10% Stamina and grants +5% Critical Strike Chance for 10 seconds (max 25%). Missing an attack resets all stacks.

  NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: FIELD COMMAND (ACTIVE)

  Issue a battlefield command affecting nearby allies for 6 seconds. “MOVE” increases Movement Speed by 30%. “DOWN” reduces incoming damage by 20%. “NOW” increases Attack Speed by 25%. Cooldown: 45 seconds.

  The sabre in Martinez's hands shuddered. The metal ran with light — blue-white, silver-gold, moving through the blade like a current finding its path. The ceremonial engravings on the blade deepened, re-carved themselves, became something alien.

  The sword changed. Straightened. Sharpened. Breathed out its first breath.

  UNIQUE WEAPON ACQUIRED: WOLFSBANE

  A weapon that remembers every pack it has broken. Damage multiplied by 1.5x for each enemy beyond the first present in combat. At maximum stack, Wolfsbane burns with the light of every canine it has ever killed.

  Current stack: 1

  This weapon cannot be destroyed. This weapon cannot be lost. This weapon has chosen its wielder.

  Martinez looked at the sword in her hands.

  Then she looked at the kitchen doorway, where four wolves had just registered the death of their Alpha and were turning.

  "Get behind me," she said.

  "Martinez—"

  "Behind me, Bright."

  He got behind her.

  She was about to give him a practical demonstration of what twelve years of state-sponsored violence could do.

  What happened next lasted approximately ninety seconds and Bright would struggle to describe it afterward in any way that captured it accurately.

  Martinez moved like something the System had been waiting to unlock. The Enhanced Speed was immediately apparent — she covered ground in fractions of the time it should have taken, her footwork fluid and exact, the broken leg completely gone as if it had never been. The Blade Dance built with each strike, each wolf she engaged feeding the next exchange, Wolfsbane burning brighter with each kill until by the fourth wolf the blade was throwing light across the kitchen walls in moving silver patterns.

  Bright wasn't idle. He worked the edges — Mana Blades from range while she held the centre, Precision Strike when one got past her guard, his Combat Awareness feeding him positioning data that he fed to her in short sharp words that she responded to without question. It was not a conversation. It was something more functional than a conversation.

  The last wolf went down to Wolfsbane through the chest, and Martinez stood in the kitchen surrounded by dissolving bodies and blood and scattered raw meat, breathing hard, the sword at her side still throwing faint silver light.

  Silence.

  Or — not silence. The alarm was still going. But the kitchen was still.

  ENEMIES DEFEATED: MANA WOLF PACK (x4)+4,200 XP total

  LEVEL UP

  BRIGHT NOKKS IS NOW LEVEL 9

  NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: Manastep (PASSIVE/ACTIVE)

  Your body has learned to treat the environment as a weapon. While wielding a blade: double-jump from any surface, run along walls for up to 3 seconds, perform evasive combat flips that generate a Mana Strike on landing. The knife goes where you go. You go where nothing can follow.

  Bright stood in the kitchen doorway and felt the new skill settle into his body — not like something added, more like something uncovered, a physical vocabulary that had always been possible and was now simply available. He rolled his shoulders. Felt his weight differently.

  He looked at Martinez.

  She was looking at the sword.

  "That was one hell of a plan," he had to raise his voice over the alarm.

  "I planned the cooler and the meat." She turned Wolfsbane slowly in her hands, watching the light move through it. "I didn't plan the rest of it."

  "The sword?"

  "It was on a wall" She glanced at him. "Seemed like a better choice rather than a kitchen knife."

  He smirked.

  She sheathed Wolfsbane — or rather, she looked for a sheath and found that one had appeared on her left hip, tooled leather with silver fittings, the sword sliding into it with the specific satisfaction of something finding its correct home. She looked at it for a moment. Then she looked at him. "Cherry?"

  "Shed. Charging." He was already moving for the door. "I need to kill that alarm."

  "Fire panel's by the main entrance," she said, falling into step beside him. Steady, even, both legs working. "I checked when we came in."

  The alarm died mid-wail.

  The silence afterward was enormous — the particular quality of silence that only exists in contrast to something very loud, a silence with shape and weight. The Elvetham settled around them, suddenly itself again, old stone and old timber and the smell of a celebration that hadn't happened.

  Bright stood at the main entrance panel and listened to the countryside outside.

  Nothing. His Danger Sense was flat. Whatever else was out there had either been drawn away by the alarm or decided the noise wasn't worth investigating.

  "Clear," he said.

  "Clear," Martinez confirmed from the window.

  He went back outside.

  The shed was exactly as he'd left it.

  Door shut. Generator running. The cable running from the output panel to Cherry's charging port. The green light steady and faithful.

  He opened the door and crouched in front of the pack.

  Battery: Charging

  He pressed his hand against the pack's outer fabric.

  "I'm back," he said. Quietly, under the generator's roar. "I told you I wouldn't be long."

  He stayed crouched there for a moment, his hand on the pack, feeling the particular quality of relief that came from the specific fear of this situation resolving.

  Then he sat down against the shed wall beside her and settled in to wait.

  Martinez appeared in the shed doorway twenty minutes later with two plates of cold wedding canapés and a bottle of champagne that she'd apparently decided the situation warranted.

  She looked at Bright on the floor beside the pack.

  She looked at the champagne.

  "Seemed appropriate," she said.

  He looked at the champagne. At the canapés. At the absurdity of all of it — the green bridesmaid dress, the sword on her hip, the generator roaring, the alarm-shaped silence outside, the two of them alive when they probably shouldn't be.

  "Yeah," he said, glancing at Cherry. "I'll share mine with Cherry."

  She sat down on the other side of the shed, her back against the wall, and poured two glasses with the matter-of-fact competence she brought to everything. Handed him one.

  They ate cold smoked salmon blinis and miniature beef wellingtons that had been meant for someone's wedding reception and drank champagne in a generator shed and didn't talk for a while because there wasn't anything that needed saying immediately and they were both exhausted enough that the silence was simply comfortable.

  "Thank you," Bright said eventually. "I don't think I would have survived that big one—"

  "You came back," she said simply. "When the alarm went. You didn't have to."

  "I wasn't going to just—"

  "A lot of people would have." She turned her champagne glass in her hands. "I'm just saying. You came back. Cherry's a lucky girl."

  He didn't have an answer for that. Instead he just smiled at Cherry and, for the first time in his life, smiled at another human who actually seemed to respect his unique relationship.

  Martinez winked at him without smiling, downed her glass, and immediately poured another.

  They agreed on taking shifts without much discussion — Martinez first, Bright second, splitting the night between them. Martinez grabbed some luxurious duvets for them both, and Bright slept on the floor beside Cherry's pack with his hand resting on the strap.

  Martinez sat at the shed door with Wolfsbane across her knees and watched the dark grounds and let him sleep.

  At some point in the second hour she looked at the pack. At the small charging indicator glowing green in the dark.

  Battery: Charging.

  She thought about the ring she'd watched him put on in the honeymoon suite. About the way he'd smiled at the recording.

  She thought about a lot of things, sitting in the dark with a sword that had chosen her and a world that had ended and the generator roaring steadily beside her.

  Then Bright stirred and she woke him and took the tablecloth and slept.

  Dawn came grey and quiet through the shed's small window.

  Bright was on watch, sitting against the wall, Cherry's pack in his lap where it had migrated sometime in the third hour. He had his hand inside it — not checking anything, just resting there, fingers lightly against her arm.

  Battery Remaining: 100% (~48h)

  He read the number and held it.

  Forty-Eight hours. More than he'd started with. More than he'd had since the flat, since the morning before the world changed, since the last normal Wednesday when he'd run her bath and lit the lavender candles and everything had been exactly as it was supposed to be.

  He disconnected the cable. Closed the charging port gently. Checked the fuel gauge — the generator had burned through about a third of the tank overnight. He shut it down.

  The silence was immediate and complete.

  He sat in it for a moment.

  Then he reached in and smoothed Cherry's hair back from her face, the gesture that required no thought, that his hands did on their own.

  "Good morning," he said softly.

  Martinez woke at the change in the generator sound — she was that kind of sleeper — and sat up with her hand already on Wolfsbane before she'd fully registered the quiet.

  She looked at Bright.

  "Morning." he said.

  She stood. Rolled her shoulders. Put full weight on both legs without thinking about it.

  "Morning." she said.

  He got Cherry settled in the pack. Secured the straps. Stood up.

  Outside the shed window, the Hampshire countryside lay in early morning grey, damp and still and entirely indifferent to everything that had happened in it. Aldermaston was out there somewhere to the west.

  They had forty-four hours and a sword and a new set of skills between them and whatever came next.

  Bright opened the shed door.

  "Alright," he said. "Let's go."

  Time: 5:30 AM (Next Day)**

  Level: 9 | XP: 3545/4500

  HP: 315/315 | MP: 265/265

  Stats: STR 20 | AGI 22 | CON 18 | INT 23 | WIS 16 | CHA 25

  Skills: Danger Sense, Combat Reflexes, Mana Infusion, Precision Strike, Combat Awareness, Mana Sprint, Mana Blade, Manastep

  Equipment:

  Santoku Knife (8–12, Superior)

  Paring Knife (5–8, Superior)

  Chef's Knife (7–11, Superior)

  Inventory (Dimensional Pack – 50kg effective, x10 weight reduction):

  Mana Crystal (Inferior) x11

  Mana Crystal (Stabilised) x2

  Charger, Tools, Phone, Blanket

  Nutrient bars, Electrolytes, Food supplies

  Pop-up tent, Sleeping bag, Spare clothes

  Lingerie, Wedding band

  Status: Dormant (Nascent)

  Core Stability: 38%

  Battery Remaining: 100% (~48h)

  Capabilities: Awareness, Mana Sonar, Mana Shroud, Mana Hearing, Mana Touch