To the normal bystander, Spider-walker Nick© seemingly vanished without a trace. But to the trained eyes of the wardens, Nick, and even Agent Blair, Future Nick explodes in a fabulous light show; silently ceasing to exist as the parallel universe that was anchoring him to our reality ceased to be.
"Well that was anticlimactic..."
"I wonder if that will play out somehow later..."
"My eyes won't uncross."
After some discussion on the art & science of time travel, parallel universes, and observer's-viewpoint paradox, Agent blair has a thought -
"We need to get to the scene of the crime!"
The team loads into various vintage muscle cars, nondescript government cruisers, and Valkyrie motorcycles and heads to the last known location of Raven's Pot: The Gilcrease Museum.
30 minutes later, at the very northwest edge of Tulsa proper, the museum awaits; a beacon in the darkness of the wooded hills across the river. The Downtown skyline fills the night sky, and our band of do-gooders gather to assess the situation. By consensus, it is decided to try the rear service entrance, as the front of the complex is locked and darkened for the night.
Malak and Derek both consider breaking & entering, but before their plans can come to fruition, Nick rings the bell and the door opens on silent hinges.
A security guard opens the door, featuring a broad-nosed, grizzled visage and a large, bulky frame. Pinned to his not-quite-official looking leather duster is a name-tag that reads: O'rourke.
"We're closed - whadaya want?"
Chris flashes his badge, and all are ushered inside.
" 'Bout time yall showed up. The local fuzz dudn't know howr ta make heads er tails outta all this mess."
Noticing the grey cloaks, the guard mutters "Wardens huh? Must be a bigger can 'o worms than we figured."
The team begins scanning, investigating, and questioning. The security guard''s name is Merv, and he's worked in the museum for over 20 years, and seldom seen a break-in happen in such a manner. He's also a bit standoffish, crude, and a tad lewd. He directs the crew to the site of the break-in; a large gaping hole in the southwest gallery. Derek is unimpressed with the wreckage, Nick fiddles with his phone-gadget, and Hannah ripostes Merv's crude pick up lines with a cool flick of her hammer. Chris is in the process of requesting a manifest of the missing items when malak realizes that not too many museum security guards would know warden when they see one.
Malak opens his third eye, and nearly loses his mind.
The image of Merv O'rourke, mildly irritating security guard is replaced with a 12 foot tall berserker, wielding a huge great axe in each hand, atop a pile of defeated enemies; screaming with joy or maybe ecstasy – and covered in blood.
With a grunt of effort, Malak closes his wizard sight. Merv starts, and turns to Mal.
"'taint polite to stare bucko, 'specially without a bye-yer-leave. You like what you see?"
"What are you?"
O'rourke snuffles, clearly unimpressed.
"Apparently somebody with better manners than you, kid."
Unmiffed, but with his pride beginning to sting, The Playboy warden locks eyes with Merv O'rourke, and initiates a soulgaze.
Whatever info was gleaned or shared in that moment, only they could say. But the tension in the air evaporates, and the investigation continues.
"Help yerselves to some coffee, I'll get that missing items report for yas."
Merv shuffles off into the darkness of the closed museum, as our team of supernatural sleuths begin their efforts anew.
With a pop, the security lights blow out, leaving all in darkness. The steady pounding of huge drums fill the inky blackness.
Hannah's voice is small in the dark:
"Anyone else hear those drums?"
