The rest of the room is quiet. The only other inhabitant has left, having apparently risen even earlier than Dualscar. But there is a small tray on the desk, a breakfast for the seadweller, including one half of an orange, already peeled. A note is propped up against it, slightly stained.

rii2e and 2hiine

waiitiing near the entrance. diidn't leave. can joiin iif you feel liike iit.

True enough, the Psiioniic is waiting down by the entrance of the hive, a book in his hands. For once, he isn't pouring into it, attention completely snared. It seems to be there more for the purpose of giving his hands something to do. More often than not, he looks up towards the door, waiting. His drone is besides him, obediently handling more oranges.