(You are not from this world.)
Her voice moved through my skull like something poured rather than spoken, gentle enough to calm a dying man. It almost worked.
"Oh?" I said. "How did you know?"
(Because I know the minds of this world. For years I have listened.)
(Every thought leaves a pattern. Every memory, every instinct. There species believes thought is intangible. It isn't. It's current — impulses, frequencies, wavelengths.)
"You're awfully talkative. Just answer my question."
(Yours does not belong here. Your wavelength is wrong for this place. Stronger. Whole in a way nothing native to this world is whole.)
"You're answer is much boring that I thought.:" I let the spear come off my shoulder, lightning already threading down the shaft in lazy arcs.
"Show me your best." The pressure in the chamber climbed a notch as my Qi leaked out past whatever restraint I usually kept on it.
She laughed. Not at me — at the idea.
(I have none to show.)
I blinked. "...What?"
