With no major incident or similar event to disturb his peace, Cole’s second week on the Phylactery had been mostly marked by his own advances on the understanding of his Unit… and the worrying fact that his growing beard was starting to make him look like someone out of a Mad Max movie.
With their eyes forward and their packs on their backs, Cole and Zalura moved from tower to tower, always making sure of staying unseen.
Whatever alloy Tetlekar was made of, it seemed to become completely featherlight whenever it received electrical charges. When it didn’t however, it was heavier than basalt. He was having a very hard time moving his malfunctioning leg, but when Cole tried to help him push it, he couldn’t even budge it an inch.
“WHAT D’YA JUST SAID, BITCH!?´´ – Desri’s roar was so loud it felt as if the whole Phylactery shook with it.
The way Cole was focusing on his notebook was akin to that of a monk trying to achieve a state of Zen.
Neatly arranged upon a makeshift table made of some crates and a large sheet of metal, laid a wide selection of wrenches, screwdrivers, pliers, hammers, drill bits, hacksaws, bolt cutters and a couple of soldering irons. There was also an old drill and a rather rusty crowbar, along with a battered but still functional multimeter by the floor.