“…The hell is this?” Oh, she heard the question, but Blaze is over here for all the wrong reasons. There are few things more suspicious to her than ‘mystery electronics + scent of dark power’. Her gun hand isn’t just itching: her gathered Light is spilling into sparks that crawl and jump over her gauntlets. You know, lest her mood be somehow subtle.

Her Ghost is nowhere to be seen; it’s hiding and monitoring the situation uneasily while the robot marches in to sweep a burning glare over the set-up. And the floating hands. But most of all, the dead man in the recliner - who is not one of Jesse’s people, she’d have noticed before now.

“Who are you?”