:she nodded, flinching slightly from the touch, but settling herself down. This is a teacher, not some...some...her mind recoiled from the thought it had almost completed. Taking deep breaths, she closed her eyes, trying to find a balance between relaxation and the ever present pull of exhaustion:

Yes professor...

:her mind was even easier to enter than most humans, as if it had been broken open before. Her consciousness was a chaotic whirl of half-formed thoughts and broken fragments, the entire shattered mess centered around a spherical void. As the professor entered her mind, he could see that the breakage seemed intentional, as if it had broken itself:

When Prof. Montclair first entered her mind, he was buffeted by the latent winds of a human subconscious. While it would have been a challenge to a novice telepath, the Savants were in a league all their own. He drew upon the power of his phylactery upon his physical body, and the psionic winds gave way.

Like some malevolent bat, he glided lower and lower, easily making his way past memories Sandra thought long buried. But by his examinations, a lot of her memories weren't conversation material.

"What life have you been living," he muttered through physical lips as he probed deeper.

:the fragments he brushed past where seemingly of normal, everyday events. A birthday here, a day in middle school there, all shattered, broken. Occasionally, he would glimpse shards that seemed dimmer, their edges sharper, like bits of obsidian floating in her mind. Upon closer examination, they proved to be repressed fragments of her memories of prior attacks by beasts on campus, images of tentacles, the sound of whimpers and cries echoing faintly from the shards. The only other spot of interest was the void centered in her mind, unaffected by the chaotic winds rocking her consciousness. As he neared the inky sphere, Sandy whimpered in the physical world, beads of sweat appearing on her forehead, her hands clenching down on her skirt as a wave of terror washed over her:

"Please don't do that. You're in the hands of a professional. Just relax, Ms. Channing. I'll be done soon," whispered Prof. Montclair as he drew out tendrils from the shadows to rub her shoulders.

Within her mind, he found the center of the hurricane. It was a sphere of the same black dreamstuff the Nal'senshi could claim as their primordial ooze. It was also calmer than the outskirts of her broken memories.

He'd never seen such a source of the substance in any other mind. A surge of elation rippled from the area where one would have found a heart. Eagerly, his psionic self raised his palms towards the stuff and found resistance.

Yield to me thy secrets...

The Savant was almost unprepared for the level of resistance as he tried to probe. He could see his the skin of immaterial hands being sloughed away by the wind-like forces. His physical form began to bleed shadows from the back of his hands.

Yield to me.

He didn't ask. The platinum watch in his pocket began to tick as he drew more of his power towards her mind, intent on learning secrets that had to have been hidden from his dark race.

:as the professor pushed at the sphere, the surface roiled, distorted screaming faces appearing all over it, reaching out toward him. His focused will drew a low moan of abject fear from the entranced girl, as the shell around the entity in her mind was slowly peeled away. As soon as a hole was bored in the sphere, something lashed out through it, a being of pure, undiluted terror, darting toward the professor. Tendrils of the same black dreamstuff writhed along the surface of the terror mem, fragments of Sandy's mind shattering at their touch, eliciting low shrieks from the girl. She sat rigid in the seat, heart hammering in her chest, knuckles white on her skirt. It was readily obvious if the mem was left free from its shell for too long....it would surely kill the girl, destroying her mind with primal fear even as her heart burst from the terror. The only secrets available here were lessons in fear and suffering, and perhaps in the strange nature of the human animal to survive nearly anything:

If the one probing Sandra's mind had been human, he or she would have been reduced to a blubbering mound of flesh and bones, the mind forever scorched by the encounter of fear incarnate.

But the psion wasn't. Magadon laughed at the backlash of fear and terror, the emotions feeding him and making him heady in his element. The mask began to form upon is physical face, the darkness robing him as the sky darkened with the onset of night. The fingers on either side of her brown-haired head began to lengthen, ending in long tapering talons.

Do your worst.

:Sandy jerked in the chair, cold sweat now covering her body, her clothes clinging to her shivering skin. A low cry of wordless terror escaped her lips, repeating with every wave of energy from the meme in her mind. The meme itself stopped in its tracks, the black ooze of its substance congealing into a sphere, twisted faces emerging all over its surface, empty eyes orienting on the professor:

Fear eater.....yessss.....like the other....but different...yessss...what do you wish of ussss, dream walker?

:a thin tendril extended from the sphere, casually caressing passing thoughts, shattering them into black shards of absolute horror, each such destruction causing the girl's body to sway, a fresh cry wrung from her lips:

By now, the darkness had blanketed the room in a profound blackness. The porcelain mask had fully formed, yellow eyes blazing from the sockets as he probed Sandy's mind through her own eyes.

In all honesty, Magadon was forced to admit that his race had given little thought to theories of beings formed out of dreamstuff. Even those who postulated such quickly eliminated the possibility that the watchers were being watched.

But it did not matter. Magadon's telepathic self looked into the tumultous mass with the fearlessness and dispassion of a raise which thrived off fear and reveled in cold reason.

I seek knowledge for the benefit of my race...

:in the same tumult of maddening whispers, the meme spoke again, a tone of mockery in the many voices:

Knowledge? Benefit? What possssible knowledge could we offer you? We can sssssee you already know well the power and beauty of fear. That is the exssstent of our domain....terror....death....ssssublimation. If you wisssh to understand the way of making ourssselvesss more....complete....jussst wait a few more momentssss....until our hossst....diesss.

:more tendrils extended from the sphere, lashing out around Sandy's mind, creating a black snowstorm of broken thoughts and unfiltered fear. Her body began to shake in earnest, now drenched in sweat, small trickles of blood escaping the corners of her too wide eyes. Her heart was racing almost to the point of bursting, and given a few more moments of the meme's gentle touch, would surely give out on her:

Magadon exerted more control on his balance, the hem of his kilt whipping in the winds.

He'd expected such an agenda from the thing that could not be rightly called a creature. But while it neared that goal, not only would it destroy Sandy, it would be among those that ensured the end of the Nal'senshi. The Watcher of the Void couldn't care any less about the girl or even his brethren, but knowledge was at stake. And ne'er let it be forgotten, that a Savant would let knowledge slide. He needed the meme as is.

I'm afraid you'll have to re-think your plans... I have a need for you yet.

Even as the thought left his mind, Magadon began to incant a powerful spell that would halt the meme's progress. Tendrils of whispering shadow began to leak from the wall's of Sandy's subconscious, just as they seeped from the walls of the classroom, twining around the girl's legs and forearms.

:the meme's progress halted, the tendrils retracting into the main sphere, the tortured faces howling in frustrated rage:

Nooo! We were sssso clossse...curssse you dreamwalker....we will have her yet!

:as the shadow tendrils wrapped around her arms and legs, her heart rate began to slow, returning the normal, her frenzied whimpers quieting as the meme was brought under control. The bloody tears still stained her face, but now she was more relaxed, seeming to be severely dazed, drained from her brush with death:

A shame... That I don't care.

The wisps began to twine around the meme, forming a flowing but tightening sphere around it. Through it all, Magadon chanted strength into the strands of shadow. The next series of incantations would null any possible powers the meme may bring to bear.

The tendrils lightly twined around Sandy's thighs, lightly massaging her. He needed her to relax, if only for the spell to work. Magadon felt the softness through the extra limbs, marveling at the softness.

:the tightening strands compressed the inky sphere, the outer layer roiling, the faces snarling soundlessly on its surface. As the next set of incantations took hold, the outer shell contracted, revealing what looked like gaping bites in the meme, shadowstuff oozing slowly from the torn wounds. Something had rather recently fed on the psychic parasite, weakening it, yet leaving it "alive":

Mmmmm....

:Sandy sighed faintly, her muscles unclenching under the gentle massage, her mind relaxing almost to its previous state:

Now are we ready to listen?

The Savant charged the sheet of darkness with a lethal power meant to sear creatures of dreamstuff. He kept such an incantation in mind when dealing with his own brethren but was quite sure it would be helpful in getting his point across.

Back at the room, as the tendrils massaged Sandy's limp form, almost disappearing up her skirt before slithering back down, the surface of the limbs like the scales of a snake.

What do you want dreamwalker? Asssk your quessstionss....ssso we can ressst.....heal our woundsss....

:the sphere calmed, all but one of the faces receding away from the sheet of painful magic, the last resembling Sandy's face, only twisted with perpetual horror as it stared unblinking at the Savant:

Mmmmnn....

:in the real world, Sandy's legs shifted slowly, the soft caress of the tendrils further relaxing her, her breathing back to normal, tho she was still damp with cold sweat: