We March On

[Ornstein]

"My name is Omni..."

It rang clear. In a darkness that felt so tangible it ought to smother all sound and light, that voice rang clear. So, too, did he clearly perceive the impossible silhouette within the dark. How was it visible? What light could cast a shadow in this perfect pitch black? There was nothing to do - nowhere to go, not that he could even seem to turn away from the shadowed figure.

"...With it, everything you desire can be yours..."

What did he desire? What want could be worth anything in this darkness? And even if there was more to it, it was a tall claim to make that this incandescent sphere of something held such power. A name wandered to the front of his thoughts... Vinheim. The Dragon School. He remembered the many marvellous things its mages had made possible, as if he had needed the reminder to warn himself not to rush to a judgement of this... place. If it could even be called such. For now, little to be done but accept what he was being shown by this strangest of dreams.

"...For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn..."

If he had had the capacity, he might have scowled to hear this. Reborn - he knew all too well that the notion never boded well, however much it might promise at first glance. The chaos wrought by the Darksign had made that abundantly clear to him. He couldn't decide which idea he disliked more - being liberated from death by the whims of this figure which now claimed to hold power over him, or by the grip of a curse about which next to nothing had ever been discovered.

"...I'll be watching... and waiting."

As suddenly as this dream began, it was over - the darkness gave way to blinding light.

But the ground beneath him felt real.

Slowly, Ornstein blinked his eyes open. Though encased in a mercifully familiar metal - his armour remained with him - he could tell he was laying on something. He placed his hands against the ground and pushed himself to his feet, rising groggily. Beneath the bestial visage of his helm, he screwed up his face. It was bright... far too bright, and far too empty. There was absolutely nothing to be seen, not even a horizon that was discernible from the flat white of the sky. As a matter of fact, it didn't look like there was solid ground beneath him at all. He'd gone straight from a void of black to a void of white, it appeared.

Well, almost a void. After a few moments of staring, he became sensible of a steady trickling sound behind him and turned. He was met with a fountain, about as many meters tall as it was wide, hewn of rough, dull grey stone. A broad column rose from its base, from which five narrow channels poured water into the pool below. Atop the column was a wide, shallow bowl... containing a bonfire. Ornstein couldn't help a derisive laugh that echoed within his helm. Was this a twisted jest on Omni's part? Did he mean to mock the knight within his dreams?

...Come to think of it, when had he fallen asleep? He couldn't recall ever leaving his lady Gwynevere's side, not once since her father uttered his last command before his departure. He and Smough had held their vigil over the Princess... Crash! A mighty shriek of steel against steel echoed in his ears. Or was it in his mind? It came again, brief and sharp as before... Blades. A battle. But he would've remembered a battle, so who could have... Wait.

Them. Now Ornstein remembered. Two there had been; one bore the arms and armour of an elite knight of Astora, while the other had appeared little more than a ghost, albeit one which glowed a brilliant yellow. They had stepped into the cathedral, intruders upon the Princess' domain. So Ornstein and Smough had interposed to answer their impudent challenge. But they were slow, sloppy - Ornstein's years of lacking practice had betrayed him at the worst possible moment. Smough fell first, collapsing in a great heap in the center of the half-ruined hall. The Dragonslayer had paid a brief final respect to the executioner - hideous habits be damned, he had served his Lord - and consumed the great soul given to his partner to claim its power. Alone, he refreshed his assault upon the two intruders, but with a freshly practiced deftness they evaded almost his every strike.

He remembered pain - sharp and fiery, as if to simply remind him of how it was meant to feel after he had been out of its reach for so very long. He remembered a final panicked, longing glance in the direction of Gwynevere's chamber as he collapsed to the floor. He had failed her. He was dead. Or was he? The grinning figure of Omni had reached out from beyond Lordran, it appeared, to inflict his design upon the fallen Dragonslayer. Was this some kind of afterlife, perhaps? A purgatory where he would remain to reflect on his failure? No. Omni had spoken as if there was far more to this place than met the eye; it simply remained to be discovered.

The knight stepped to the edge of the fountain and leaned forward to behold his rippling reflection. His armour appeared... charred. It had been blackened as if by fire, and taken on a similar ashen grey to the stone of the fountain. How thoughtful of Omni to impart this stark visual reminder of the duty Ornstein had left behind. So if his armour had at least been salvaged, then where was his spear? He stepped away and paced around the fountain, looking around the empty landscape for any sign of his weapon - ah, there it was. It had been hidden from his sight by his original position next to the fountain, but it was on the other side, its blade jabbed into the central column. Conveniently, the pommel was at his eye level, so he needed only reach out to take hold of it and pull the weapon free. From the fresh hole in the column, another gout of water poured free.

He studied the spear, and sadly found it blackened as his armour had been. Even the blade was dull, devoid of its usual immaculate shine. What a miserable sight, but at least it was here and he wasn't unarmed. Next order of business: decide where to go. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the light - constant, if it wasn't intense - he peered around again at what he estimated was the horizon... There was something out there. Something in eight directions, in fact, spaced evenly as far as he could tell. But they were tiny and distant; reaching them on foot would take quite some time.

If there was one thing he appeared to have in abundance, though, it was time. So towards one of these distant points, the Dragonslayer began to walk.

[Albert Wesker]

For a passing few seconds, he again felt like things were turned upside down as he passed through the gate back to the empty white void of the Nexus. Mostly it was just the simple stark change so rapidly -- from being amid a grassy field of standing stones, a gentle breeze and the feeling of calm wilderness one moment, and empty whiteness, stretching out in every direction as far as the eye could see the next. Stepping from firm, identifiable ground into a blank space where up and down could be arguable directions and perspective didn't mean much....it was a bit of a shock he doubted he would ever completely adjust to.

Best thing to do would be to try and not pass through portals too often.

His pace didn't even slow as he set foot upon the invisible ground of the Nexus. He spared only a half-hearted glance back at the gate as he strode away from it. That he could still see nothing but white beyond and above it, despite knowing that through it there lay a very real place unnerved him ever so slightly. But mostly... Mostly it just left him confused and with a mild headache. More and more it was becoming clear that this place operated on more almost childish fantasy and imagination than logic or physics.

Or that 'Omni' person just....really enjoyed messing with people. Maybe some bit of both.

He fiddled with his gloves as he walked, his main goal for now to go back to the fountain in what he assumed to be the middle of the Nexus. Then he would make his next move...whatever that might be. Picking a new gate to jump through at random was all he really had to go on at this point, and it wasn't an appealing option.

He briefly considered trying to see if he could get any answers out of Omni himself. But he dismissed that idea almost immediately. If he had had any intention of giving any more information than he had, he probably would have. .....probably.

It was...possible, anyway.

All he could really hope for was that he'd end up somewhere a little less...strange. Maybe meeting someone who could actually provide some information without getting him wrapped up in some wacky, chaotic mess. He'd had enough of that for one day.

With little else to do, he let his gaze wander, drifting from the gates -- little more than pinpricks in the distance -- to the fountain itself, to the person striding away from the structure, to...

Huh. That was odd.

He was still a little too far out to see the exact details, but it looked like the fountain had...changed. It could very easily have been some trick of Omnilium, if the person who was walking away from the fountain was any indication, but...it did seem like a somewhat frivolous use of Omnilium.

The former Admiral slowed his pace slightly, turning his attention to the apparent new arrival. And the spear they were carrying. Though they were armed and armored, the way they were moving...didn't look like they were actively looking for a fight. Not that he was any great judge of that from this distance.

Well, looked like there was nothing to do but keep on walking and get to where he was going.

Hopefully incident-free.

[Ornstein]

In the absence of any other sound once he was far enough from the fountain to lose the trickling of its water, Ornstein listened to the familiar rhythmic clanking of his armour as he marched straight ahead towards one of the distant figures. He hefted the spear in his right hand, parallel to the ground, and couldn't help but keep glancing down at it as he walked and grimacing at its sorry state of discolouration. Something told him no amount of polishing was likely to salvage its former golden shine.

He'd continued to march for some time in silence before something caught his attention. There was a new figure, apparently between himself and the distant landmark, and it appeared to be getting closer. Perhaps there had been somebody over there whose presence he had missed at first glance. With any luck, this person could shed some light on his predicament. Bolstered by that thought, Ornstein picked up his pace into a long, purposeful stride that would carry him to his destination a little longer.

Uncounted minutes passed - an hour, perhaps, not that he had been trying to keep track - before the figure was close enough for proper details to be beheld. It was a man, with a fairly heavily angled chin, who wore a white cap atop his head and circular spectacles. Clad in a fur-lined coat, a fashion that altogether struck the knight as very much foreign, he seemed to be approaching the fountain. Time to flag him down and see if this first contact would teach Ornstein what he wished to know.

"Hail!" he called out from within his helm once within earshot, and raised his free hand in a curt wave. "I hope you can assist me, sir. I have absolutely no idea where I am."

[Albert Wesker]

In no great hurry as he was, it took a long while to actually get anywhere noticable. The ice-man gave up trying to keep track of time as it passed, but after slowly ambling along on his way for what felt in his tired mind like hours, he did let out a lazy yawn, slowing to a complete stop for a handful of seconds, pulling his coat back up higher on his shoulders. The Nexus was rapidly growing on him as a place he wanted to spend as little time as possible.

But standing around complaining wasn't going to get him anywhere. So he stuck both hands back in his pockets, hunched forward and put his legs to walking again. And as he did, he turned his attention back toward the other figure, who it would seem had picked up their own pace in the interim.

As the distance closed, more detail became clear. And the first thing that stood out was the almost sorry condition of both the armor and weapon the....person wielded. Looking more like weather-beaten relics than servicable equipment, it was quite apparent that the poor person had been put through the grinder -- literally AND figuratively, if they were in this place now on top of their own condition.

"Hail!"

As the man, by his voice, called out to him, Kuzan slowed his pace to a halt, quirking an eyebrow both at the man's....strange manner of speech as well as his greeting. At least he was polite, if nothing else. In return, Kuzan pulled one gloved hand from his pocket and gave a lazy wave in return. "I'm not sure how much help I can be...I just got here myself." He ran his free hand over his head, scratching at his hair. "But....I can tell you that this place..." He swept his opposite arm out and around, indicating the vast white expanse. "...is called the Nexus."

Both hands returned to his pockets. "Did you....uh.....you know...." His words deserting him, he turned his gaze upward momentarily. "....I forget." Looking back down, he tilted his head to one side. "But....you're new here, I take it?"

[Ornstein]

"I'm not sure how much help I can be...I just got here myself." That was decidedly not what Ornstein had hoped to hear. It appeared he wouldn't be told much of use by this bespectacled fellow, but any information at all was better than none.

"But... I can tell you that this place... is called the Nexus." Prompted by the wave of the man's hand, Ornstein took another look around, compelled to behold the place again now that it had a name. Already, it felt less inscrutable. "But... you're new here, I take it?"

"That's correct," he answered, and turned back to his companion. "I just arrived, after... well, after dying back home." It sounded even stranger when he said it out loud. "I'm still not quite sure whether I'm dreaming... Ah, where is my decorum?" He turned back to the man and leaned forward into a bow of greeting. "I am Ornstein, of the land of Lordran. Might I ask your name, sir?"

[Albert Wesker]

He had had the feeling from the start that the other man was new here. His first question had cemented it, and now his answer confirmed that he wasn't simply out of his own mind. He almost wished he was, that he'd just taken a bad hit to the head or fallen into the ocean for a few minutes too long....it would be easier to explain than...

Behind his glasses, his eyes roved over the area again, squinting in disbelief and mild frustration.

...than this.

"After dying? Arara..." He put a hand to his forehead, taken aback at the strangeness of the statement. Once you were dead, you were dead, that was all there was to it. Maybe the poor fellow had just....thought he was dead? Taken a beating just a little too severe and blacked out but good? That had to be it. Not even this...Omni character could go and pull someone back from death itself just to deposit them in this place.

.....could he?

Shaking his head in amazement, he muttered in agreement. "....still trying to figure that out myself..." A really, really odd dream would certainly explain all this as well as just about anything.

And then the other man....bowed? And introduced himself. "Ornstein, is it?" He inclined his head in a gesture of acknowledgement and greeting, returning his hands to his coat pockets. "Me, I'm....eh...." For a moment he debated whether to give his true name, or his former Marine epithet. "....Kuzan. Retired Navy Admiral."

Honesty won out in the end. This time.

[Ornstein]

"After dying? Arara..." Ornstein knew that what he'd just said sounded patently mad, but he could think of no other way to describe what had befallen him. His last memory, after all, was falling in battle against the two undead intruders in the Anor Londo cathedral. He hadn't just fallen unconscious; injury had rendered him such a few times before, but the sensation that took his body in that moment felt nothing like it. He hadn't simply slipped into unconsciousness then - he'd slipped into the grasp of death, only to be plucked from it and taken to this incomprehensible place beyond Lordran.

"Me? I'm... eh... Kuzan. Retired Navy Admiral." A military man, it turned out, and one of highly elevated rank, though he didn't look like any naval officer Ornstein had encountered. For what little the remark was worth, his unusual garb didn't much look like a uniform. Ornstein noted how this Kuzan had appeared briefly taken aback by his formality. A confusing response, to say the least, from a man who ought to be well accustomed to the protocol and organisation of military life.

"Well met, Admiral," Ornstein replied. He looked past Kuzan to the landmark beyond him, and indicated such by leaning a little to his right so that the unmoving face of his helm peered over the Admiral's shoulder. "It appeared to me as if you came from that structure yonder. What exactly is it?"

[Albert Wesker]

Almost as soon as he'd said it, he regretted mentioning he'd been an Admiral. He hadn't quite left the Navy on good terms, after all. And as Ornstein addressed him as Admiral, he mentally cringed, and looked away, feigning a sudden interest in the still-distant fountain. The less time he spent dwelling on his unpleasant past the better for all involved.

The mention of the 'structure', as the armorer gentleman referred to it as, was a welcome distraction. "Hmm?" Turning his head, he looked over his shoulder and back the direction he'd come. "Ah, that..." Turning more fully about to face it, he frowned, his face locking into a grimace as he recalled the unpleasant sensation of traversing the gate...

"It... It's some kind of gateway or portal." He knew he sounded about as clueless as he could, and he simply shrugged aimlessly. "It's hard to explain, but I just know what I've felt and went through." Pulling a hand from his pocket, he indicated the stone-flanked gateway to Camelot. "There's not much to see from looking around or over it, but if you go through it....it spits you out someplace else."

He turned back to look at Ornstein, shaking his head in a mixture of exasperation and confusion. "I don't really get it, honestly... It's like this place just does whatever that Omni...person wants it to."

[Ornstein]

"Ah, that... It's... It's some kind of gateway or portal." Kuzan didn't sound entirely certain about that, which concerned Ornstein for a moment before he remembered that Kuzan had said that he was also relatively new here. In that light, it sounded more as if Kuzan simply didn't know by what mechanism this "gateway" worked. Colour Ornstein unsurprised. The rest of his brief time here had been just as inexplicable, except as the product of the whims of Omni - who, judging by Kuzan's subsequent mention of the name, was in fact not simply a figment of the limbo-like dream Ornstein had experienced before awaking here.

"Omni is a mystery indeed," the knight concurred. "To bring us, and presumably others, away from the places we call home and strand us here... Is he some manner of god? ...Eh, I digress. That isn't important right now, not compared to my need to find my way from this barren place." He raised a hand in turn to gesture at the distant portal from which Kuzan had emerged. "Where does that particular gate lead? Unless you have some kind of business here, I would join you in journeying there and see what I find."

[Albert Wesker]

"...so yeah, boss...things are moving along just about like we expected. Shouldn't take too much longer now." With the firm clack of his well-polished shoes on the invisible footing of the Nexus, a man known by many names, all of them with the initials D.D., strode out of the portal from Camelot. One hand held what looked to be a cell phone up to his ear, the other had two fingers loosely grasping a cigarette. "One thing, though, Slick..." Bringing the cigarette up, he took a long drag on it, letting the smoke hiss out through clenched fangs before speaking again. "....don't ever send me to the Kingdom again. Had to go through four pairs of shoes with all that mud and dust. Send Boxcars or something next time."

The voice on the other end practically growled at him in annoynace. "Boxcars. Really? " Without warning, the next word was shouted so loudly that the well-dressed smoker had to pull the phone sharply from his ear, wincing visibly. "Boxcars?!"

"Alright, alright, I get it... Then at least let me spring for some dirt-proof shoes or something. Can't be impossible with this Omnilium stuff."

"Yeah, whatever. Just get your ass back here already. We lost Deuce. Again. And we got canned goods problems again, if you know what I mean."

"Jeeze, that guy...never a break with him. Alright, alright, I'll be there soon."

With a beep and a flip of the wrist, the call was silenced and the phone was replaced, strangely enough, with a pair of cards. With what was clearly a well-practiced maneuver, the man slipped the cards into a matching deck in the breat pocket of his suit. Tucking the lit cig between his teeth, he adjusted his tie, pulled his lat down lower over his face, and turned his attention to getting where he was going quickly.

-----

"A mystery..." That was definitely one word for the strange being, to be certain. Bringing who knows how many people here, for reasons that were....well, they probably existed, to at least some degree. "He sure acts like a god." For a moment, he thought he saw movement in the distance, still silouhetted a fair distance away between himself and the gate, but dismissed it, turning back to Ornstein. His sentiment about wanting to find a way to leave this barren white void was one he could share.

"I don't know what the place is called..." He tilted his head to one side, something off in the distance again catching his eye. There was definitely movement there, and getting closer. Rapidly so. Hopefully it would be just another traveller on his way to somewhere else and wouldn't pose a threat. "....but it's some kind of countryside, or something. Like what you might see in fantasy books about knights and magic."

It didn't even occur to him that what he had said might be, at the very least, strange to the armored man.

"I don't really have any particular business there myself, but--" He was cut off by the sudden, unmistakable growl of an engine.

The figure he had seen in the distance rapidly closed the distance, swerving widely around the two men while simultaneously slowing his rate of travel dramatically to little more than a swift walk. The motorcycle he was on rumbled as it slowly rolled by, and its rider tipped his hat. "Good day, gentlemen. Taking a trip to the Kingdom?" A cloud of smoke blew from his mouth, and he replaced his hat. "Enjoy your stay." Adjusting his tie once again, he turned his attention back forward and revved the accelerator, pulling away as quick as the slowed speed of the vehicle would let him.

Kuzan could only stare blankly after the strange man. Not only his sudden appearance and departure, but his appearance -- almost more like some kind of insect than a human -- was entirely bizarre. ".....Well." He shrugged. "I guess we know the name of the place that gate leads to now." He jerked a thumb at the gate to Camelot.

[Ornstein]

"I don't know what the place is called..." Another less than favourable response, but Ornstein realised he needn't fret much over that. This was just one man, after all, who hadn't been around here for very long and seemed consequently lacking in solid information. There would be others, the knight mused. There must be.

"...but it's some kind of countryside, or something. Like what you might see in fantasy books about knights and magic." Kuzan was quite right - that sounded positively odd to Ornstein. He knew well enough of the many tales and songs often passed down about the exploits of great figures of history. Lord knew he had read plenty about the great accomplishments of Oolacile before its collapse into the Abyss... Come to think of it, it made an odd sort of sense that whatever world Kuzan was plucked from held a similar tapestried history.

The sudden, ostensibly purposeless turning of Kuzan's head caught Ornstein's attention. He looked over his shoulder, in the same direction; another figure could be seen in the blank distance, rapidly approaching. Far too rapidly, in fact, for even a horse to bear one that quickly... As it turned out, this third individual was not astride a horse. Nothing of the sort, in fact. It looked like... frankly, like nothing Ornstein had ever seen. It rumbled beneath its rider with a constant, guttural growling, and bore him upon two large inline wheels as he slowed to trundle past Ornstein and Kuzan.

The knight was speechless for the moment. He merely inclined his head enough to make his nod of greeting visible through his helm, and watched the entirely black figure speed away with a sudden roar of the... thing he was riding.

"...What in Gwyn's name was that?"

[Albert Wesker]

Though it didn't show clearly on his face, Kuzan was quite perplexed about what he had just witnessed himself. Not to the same level or for even the same reasons as Ornstein, but what he had just seen was odd enough that it left him mentally scratching his head. The bike he had been reading...it reminded him vaguely of Smoker's preferred means of conveyance. That.... That Billower Bike of his. Although this one had sounded similar enough, and looked to have had power to spare, it had went far slower than what he guessed it should have. Still faster than travelling on foot, but nowhere near as fast as it should have gone.

He narrowed his eyes, a sudden suspicion striking him that he couldn't quite identify, but within a matter of seconds it passed when he came up with nothing solid that could explain it beyond "Omni is a strange, strange being".

He was almost tempted to ask who Gwyn was as he turned back to what was still going on, but dismissed it. "Well, putting that aside...." He turned his attention back to the gate to Camelot. "Do you know about....uh...." For a moment, the word eluded him, and he had to scratch at his chin while he gathered his thoughts. The strangeness of the events had scattered his mind in more than one way. "....summoning with that... That....Omni... Omniul.... Omnilium?" Stumbling over the words aside, he was willing to bet that just like he had, the armored man would instictively know exactly how to as soon as he thought about it.

[Ornstein]

Colour both Ornstein and Kuzan thoroughly confused by what they'd just seen. Ultimately, the knight paid the retreating black figure little mind save for a few more seconds of bemused staring before he returned his attention to the conversation at hand.

"Do you know about... uh... summoning with that... that.... Omni... Omniul... Omnilium?" Onto another strange subject. What did he mean, summoning? What sort of things was this Omnilium substance capable of? Omni had, however cryptically, spoken highly of its potential for... whatever use there was for it.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Ornstein admitted. "Omni did mention something about it making my desires possible, but I couldn't begin to guess how. Do you know what can be done with this Omnilium?"

[Albert Wesker]

When a negative response ws given to his question about Omnilium's uses for summoning, Kuzan was taken aback. He remembered muddling through it blankly himself, only really understanding it after he was done, though still with more than a few questions. But now it looked like he was going to have to put his limited understanding of things to the task of explaining it to someone else.

"Arara..." The idea wasn't a pleasant one.

"Well, I do have an idea, yes." Lifting one hand, he put it palm-first against his chest. With a look of concentration upon his face, he withdrew his arm, slowly curling his fingers in as if he were grasping something tightly. And in a matter of seconds, he had produced a small orb of Omnilium, floating in his open hand, swirling in a myriad of colors. "This is Omnilium in its basic state, or so I would imagine." Turning to Ornstein, he added, "If you focus on yourself, you should be able to feel it within you and draw it out to use it. All I can say is you'll understand it better as soon as you try, little sense as it makes."

He gave the orb of omnilium in his hand a twirl, setting it to spinning in a dazzling display of color. "And if you focus strongly enough on something you really want, or that might come in handy..." With a wave of his free hand, he gestured in the general direction the strange man on the bike had gone in. "...you can shape it out of your Omnilium, and summon it to be used."

After a moment, he added as an urgent afterthought, "Provided you've got enough, of course... It's unpleasant if you don't."

Lapsing into silence, the ice man turned his thoughts to a demonstration, and to getting where he was headed more quickly. Given what he had just seen, a form quickly solidified in his mind. But on its own, it wouldn't be of much use. From the way he understood it, Smoker's bike had been powered by his Devil Fruit powers, which Kuzan himself distinctly lacked. And while he was far from familiar with the way a bike of such design with a normal engine would work...he knew enough to hope that Omnilium would fill in the gaps.

A look of concentration on his face, a minute or more passed, the orb of Omnilium in his hand increasing ever so slightly in size as he let it drift to the ground, where it rested on the blank white surface, slowly growing further still as another minute, and then another ticked away. His unfamiliarity slowing the process, it took several minutes longer for the process to finally run its course and the Omnilium 'cocoon' around the summoned vehicle to pop, revealing the fruits of his labor.

Tilting his head to the side, Kuzan restrained a grin. It really was easy enough when you put your mind to it. Resting a hand on the handlebars of the three-wheeled vehicle, Kuzan turned to his armored companion. "Easy as that."

[Ornstein]

Ornstein had to admit, in his opinion, there were more important things to be done than ponder the alien properties of Omnilium. Finding shelter and more information, for example, and at some point in the conversation he had resolved he would seek these things through that distant gate to the so-called Kingdom. A kingdom must have a king; perhaps he could petition an audience with that monarch.

First things first: observe Kuzan's demonstration of how Omnilium could be put to use. The knight watched as Kuzan pressed a hand to his chest, firmly grasped thin air - and then pulled a globule of the luminescent substance straight out of his body.

"If you focus on yourself, you should be able to feel it within you and draw it out to use it," Kuzan added to his introduction of the colourful orb. "All I can say is you'll understand it better as soon as you try, little sense as it makes." To feel it within oneself and draw it out as Kuzan had just done... Was this another application of Omni's apparent power? To give all he brought here the instinctive knowledge of how to use Omnilium? While a tad ignorant himself, Kuzan had not let the knight astray just yet. It was worth a try.

Ornstein was about to make his own attempt to extract the substance from his body, before Kuzan continued. He appeared to be experimenting, judging by the thoughtful, focused expression on his face. Ornstein watched as the orb of Omnilium drifted to the imperceptible ground and slowly - very slowly - expanded. The mysterious process took several silent minutes, which the knight spent gazing at the marbled colours that danced across the growing bubble's surface. Finally, it simply disappeared with a pop, revealing a similar device to the one that black figure from earlier had been riding, only this one had two rear wheels.

"Fascinating," Ornstein murmured. He paced slowly around the machine, inspecting it in a vain attempt to identify precisely what it was. He'd never before seen a carriage like this which only bore a single passenger, much less one than ran under its own inscrutable power. He would certainly have to learn more when the opportunity arose, but he had more important things to do at the moment. He stood back, his spear held upright at his side with its pommel against the ground, and placed his left hand against his chest. In the same manner as Kuzan, he closed his eyes and curled his fingers as if grasping something upon his breastplate... There it was. An odd, swelling sensation, foreign if not altogether unpleasant. He continued to pull gradually, until a similar sphere of Omnilium coalesced in his hand.

"...That was easier than I expected." He tilted his head. "I think I see what you meant about understanding it once I tried for myself. It's an odd feeling, to be sure. I'm far more accustomed to magic that must be studied and practiced." He already had in mind what he would craft to help his travel to the gate, the first familiar option that had come to mind. Again, he concentrated, and held out the orb of Omnilium until it too floated to the ground. Slowly, more so than Kuzan's, it expanded. It didn't grow to be as wide as the one Kuzan had used, but just as long, and much taller.

When the orb eventually popped out of sight, it revealed a horse. He was a tall, well muscled stallion of dark grey hair and a black mane and tail, in the kind of physical shape well suited for use as a charger. Fully saddled and bridled, he gave a brief snort and turned to behold his rider. "To even be capable of creating life... What a remarkable place we've been brought to."

[Albert Wesker]

While he surveyed his creation, the former Admiral paid occasional glances to Ornstein as he made his own efforts. Just as he'd predicted, the process seemed to go easy enough for him and soon enough he had pulled the Omnilium from himself and beheld it his hand. A faint grin flashed across Kuzan's face as he watched, remembering having much the same reaction himself when he had first summoned his beloved bicycle, what seemed like just minutes ago, despite the large amount of time lost in simply travelling back and forth across the Nexus.

As Ornstein began his own summoning attempt, Kuzan turned to the contraption he had summoned. It was all well and good to have summoned it, but now he had a sudden hesitance to actually ride the thing. A bicycle was one thing, that was under his own control and only went as fast as he could make it go. But...after a moment of screwing his courage up, he finally shook his head and, pulling both hands from his pockets, he swung one leg over the bike, settling onto the seat heavily. As his right knee bent to settle into the vehicle's footrests, he winced visibly, a grimace lacing his features. He really needed to do something about that icy prosthetis....it just wasn't comfortable.

Leaning back in the seat, he waited until Ornstein had finished his task, beholding the impressive figure of a horse the knight summoned. "Arara...impressive." Though Kuzan was far from an expert, and not even that familiar with such things, he had a nagging feeling that the steed would make a fine warhorse.

Turning his head back front, Kuzan cracked his neck, bringing his hands to the handlebars of the vehicle. After a moment of fumbling about, the engine rumbled to life, producing a dull growl as it initially roared to life, almost unnaturally thick clouds of pale white smoke virtually pouring from twin exhaust pipes. Probably a relic of the inspiration for the vehicle. Turning his head to Ornstein, he indicated the portal to Camelot with a point of his head. "Well, shall we?"

Waiting for the knight to lead the way, he gave the engine one good rev and hit the gas, following him toward their destination.

[Ornstein]

Ornstein watched as Kuzan somewhat hesitantly mounted the machine he'd summoned. With a turn of a small key and a twist of one of its handles, the device roared to life in the same way as the other fellow's had. That roar settled to a low, deep rumble, which the horse turned to inspect. If he'd been spooked at all by the strange noise, he didn't show it.

"We shall," he concurred, glad to be getting underway. From the horse's left side, he raised his left foot into the near stirrup, grasped the saddle and hauled himself up into it. His left hand moved to grasp the reins while the spear remained at his right side. "Let's see what awaits us through this gateway. Yah!" With a snap of the reins, he spurred the horse into action, cantering around Kuzan and towards the distant portal.