As we made our journey through the Facility, we came upon a particularly rusted door that clearly hadn’t been used in ages. Even after the lock was opened it still managed to stay in place until I used the full force of my body to bash it ajar. As I was trying to push it open further so I could get through GG decided to query my methods.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to go through the door?” she teased as if I should’ve thought of that first. She phased through the wall next to me as if proving a point, but it wasn’t as if the though hadn’t crossed my mind but rather…

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I said returning to my rather sad display of attempted door pushing. The door eventually gave way and I managed to squeeze through with all of my stuff.

“Why not?” She said half phasing through me, clearly annoyed by my physical limitations.

“Do you mind?” I swatted her out of me, “There are at least 3 pencils lodged in my arm.” I paused, contemplating briefly on what in the world would being stuck in a door feel like, none of the thoughts were pleasant and I just shook it off completely. “I’m not going to risk it.”

Eventually we made it to block A on this floor, it wasn’t particularly hard to find the right room in spite of the weathered signs on this floor. I didn’t imagine this place would look so run down and yet it was almost as if time passed differently here. In spite of this the swipe card lock was still working perfectly. The room was a bit on the small side compared to the others in this area, and it seemed pretty barren too save for a few books and a clipboard on the counter by a displayed weapon.

“What is this place?” GG asked. There was a hint of curiosity in her tone. I couldn’t imagine what was so interesting about it myself.

“The armory. Well” I replied, carefully choosing my next words so she could understand. “That distortion or whatever you called it.” I paused not certain of my own, almost distant, awareness of the topic. “it’s highly susceptible to certain metals.” I stated flatly thinking to myself ‘I have no idea what kind.’

“Is that so?” She responded back with the same flatness. She did not seem very convinced and at this point I wasn’t either.

“The weapons created with that metal have been stored here.” I said picking up the only weapon not behind a lock. It was a scythe. It seemed to be more ornamental than anything. Perhaps it was just made for the aesthetic… or maybe this was the only thing someone knew how to make, and they figured why not…? What ever reason it came to be, I now found it in my hands. “This…” I said moving it around in my hands trying to get used to the weight of it. “This doesn’t seem practical.”

As I continued to lightly play with the scythes round pole, I searched mentally for any instance in my life that would allow me to wield this without injuring myself. I never did color guard, or baton twirling, or anything remotely similar… right? As a matter of fact, I could hardly remember doing anything at all.