Before registering the words, the man whipped his head around. One hand settling on the handle of the gun under his clothes. The other curled up by his side. In the steady light of the luminous liquid, discolored patches of skin seemed to move from his shoulder to the open hand. Though it still seemed empty.

It was a few moments of staring into the darkness before he noticed the outline of the speaker and registered the voice. A child it seemed.

"Orholam isn't anywhere child, but he is everywhere. I wouldn't have gotten here without him." Straightening up, he moved the shirt back into place, obscuring the gun.

"Would you happen to know where I am child?" He asked with a smile. His face twitched into the visage of a man unaccustomed to the movement.