Despite dragging his feet to get there, it wasn't long before Yang Qing reached the gates of the Institute. For a place that had helped mold who he was and given him so much, it was somewhere he would rather avoid, yet he just couldn't stop coming back no matter how much he wanted to stay away. For one, the Order's main library was here.
His palms grew sweaty and his throat dried up, prompting a small gulp to wet it and give himself a little courage. But try as he might, no courage came. All he had in reserve was fear, anxiety, worry, and a sharp uptick in paranoia.
His eyes darted around nervously like a prey animal that knew it was neck deep in predator territory. He kept glancing about, expecting to be attacked at any moment. Sadly, this wasn't some unfounded paranoia or deep seated trauma influencing his behavior. Well, the trauma did play a part, but experience had its hand in it too.
