How many years had it been since the last time he had spoken to another living person? The Mystic removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with a half chuckle at the thought. Dozens of years, maybe half a century. He looked up from the barely functioning monitor in front of him as he felt the earth beneath him tremble with magic. The blackened ooze that had flooded into the city from what had once been the shoreline jostled back and forth harshly, as a tumbler of water knocked on its side.

"Someone's here, someone who shouldn't be," he whispered to himself as he reached out and grabbed his personal teleportation device from his belt. Whatever was going on, it wasn't meant to be on this world, a plane on the verge of death and rebirth.

"I only needed another decade or so and I could have brought all these technologies home with me, or at least their schematics!" he said as he brought a fist down upon the monitor, smashing through it with surprising force. The projector on the bottom of it cracked and gave a final cry as it finally died completely.

Sighing, he shoved his notes into the pockets lining the inside of his jacket and turned toward the shattered window behind him. With a wave of his hand, a disc of ice appeared under his feet and began carrying him out into this toxic world, and toward the source of the magical disturbance.

He ran a hand through his light cyan hair and ran a finger through the shock of white that was once a light blue.

How time flies... he thought whimsically as he approached the edge of what appeared to be an ancient forest. Without a beat he stopped just outside the edge of the trees, floating some twenty meters above ground. His eyes narrowed as he beheld the ancient gray corpses of trees before him. While the technological marvels this world had created were indeed wonderful, the price they exacted upon their planet with their lack of magical ability had done them no favors. True, they had technology bordering on the magical, but the toll they exacted upon the planet in exchange for that power was unconscionable.

He could adapt these technologies to Althanas, however, and make the lives of many people much easier, especially those who lacked magical talent. More than that, he could potentially profit off of it for many years to come, which was never in his eyes a bad thing.

"Now... who's in there?" he said, voice low, bordering on a whisper. Whatever old god had awakened to wreak holy revenge on this world would have to be subdued, at least temporarily, until Rehtul's research was complete.

"Come on out then!"