Oracle, I have been struggling to find a balance between working and having a life. What do you recommend in your wisdom?
I tell him of your plight.
"Oh, are they?" He asks. "Oh wow. Imagine if you could help them."
I clear my throat. "You, uh, you are the one who's supposed to help them."
"Oh that's not good. Oh boy, that's a fireball and a half. I require- i require assistance. HELP."
He begins to rave, something about the drone tendril, the beast that has awakened (perhaps by coincidence?), and isolation vaults. I admit, I cannot make heads nor tails of much of it, but he concludes with a world-weary tone:
"What are we going to have to kill?"















