The Manics, little dears that they were, still didn't have the best handle on radios. Rather than calling ahead, his first warning was when a sentry scuttled in through the ceiling, winking out of sight as it found a corner to hide in. It was followed close behind by the scout, which shot like a bolt straight over to him and crouched behind his legs, breathing hard and giggling quietly.

And then, there it was. A hideous sight to see, all technocyte and Orokin gold. Six years, and he was still ready to tear it apart, sucking in an angry breath at the sight of it...

...And then let it out. Real slow. The Manic near his feet whined in confusion, unsure what to make of his reaction. "Khuss hut?" it asked.

"No. Not this one." He rolled his shoulders back, standing up straight with almost impossibly steady balance on his thin little feet.

"Six years. Thought you'd never come. Made sense at first--thought this was all one of the Lotus' sick games for a while. But the longer and weirder things went, the less certain I was." He tilted his head. "So. Is it? Not expecting an answer, though. You never really talked, did you? Might have a datapad somewhere around here, find out if you can write, at least."

Normally he'd be more than happy to just hear himself talk, but Queens and all their kuva, the lack of conversation had been driving him up the walls.