Soul Reaver's eyes glitter faintly as they tune into the newcomer's spiritual signature. A very faint smile plays over Soul Reaver's lips.

So I was right. And that means that the other man is Kawanua... or I should say, one of Kawanua's personalities. I will have to speak to him when I get the chance.

Although Soul Reaver made no physical show of reaction to the smell of the room, he is silently grateful when Clutchfiend uses his wind spell to bring fresh air into the room... although the strength of the wind does force him to shield his eyes with his forearm and brace himself. Once the wind dies down, Soul Reaver seizes the chance to make a faint gesture with one of his hands, shrouding him and Natalya in an glittering dome that quickly disappears from sight.

It should serve as a temporary barrier against any further unpleaseant odours.

Soul Reaver then turns calmly back to watching Clutchfiend, apparently unaffected by his outburst... after all, if there was one constant in this ever-chaning universe, it was his dedication to his cause.

Soul Reaver shows no reaction to Clutchfiend's words, but the psyker clearly hears his reply.

Understood. Something is definitely troubling her.

When Clutchfiend dismisses them, Soul Reaver stays with Natalya as he walks outside. The sun shines through the clear morning air, and a gentle, warm wind whispers over the ground, stirring grains of sand. Soul Reaver feels relieved to be outside once more - his endless travels have made him feel more at home beneath an open sky than inside steel and concrete buildings.

Suddenly, however, a violent quake strikes. Soul Reaver feels the ground beneath his feet jerk away so suddenly and with such force that it knocks him flat onto the ground. Soul Reaver curses violently as he struggles to try and get back up.

Nearby, at a crossroads, thick cracks begin to race across the road as the asphalt buckles with a thuderous crunch.

Soul Reaver raises his head to see the ground bulging upwards unatturally, and has a feeling of certain, impending catastrophe... which he is helpless to prevent. Cars are backing away from the shifting ground... but it is too late.

With a roaring explosion, the centre of the crossroads explodes apart, sending chunks of asphalt hurtling through the air. Several smaller pieces smash through nearby windows, while one particularly large chunk smashes into the corner of a buidling. With the violent tremors and the heavy impact, the corner collapses under its own weight, causing part of the building to fall into rubble.

Molten magma and jets of sulphurous gas spew from the the crater in the ground. The nearest cars are struck by gobs of liquified rock - the people inside barely have time to shriek before they burst into flames and are incinerated. The blast hurls a thin column of magma many metres vertically into the air, with a shimmering red shard flying off from the top before the column collapses back into the crater again.

Whistling loudly, the shard flies high into the sky, before it gradually slows... and begins to fall straight towards Soul Reaver.

Soul Reaver has barely had a chance to scramble away when the object falls mere centimetres from his face, impaling itself in the ground with a high-pitched metallic 'shwing'.

It is Blooddrinker.

Gobs of slowly cooling magma slide over the hilt of the sword and trickle down the blade... yet the weapon itself is cool and unmarred. It simply stands there, impaled blade-first in the ground, its razor-sharp edge an arms length from Soul Reaver's face. Its surface almost seems to shimmer with smugness.

Soul Reaver hears the Daemon Lord's sneering voice in his mind.

You cannot rid yourself of me that way, 'master'! This is merely a taste of the devastation I could have wreaked here, should I have chosen to do so.

Instead, I have settled simply for showing you that you have no choice in this matter - you WILL wield me, or the lives of an uncountable number of your oh-so-cherished mortals will be on your conscience!

The sword's tone lowers sinisterly.

You will wield me, Rhavin. You have no choice.

Taken aback and shocked to the core of his being, Soul Reaver's face is pale as death as he unsteadily rises to his feet again. The ground has stopped shaking, and there is only the faint crackling of the lightly burning patch of grass before him and the sizzling of cooling magma in the distance. Despite the apparent calm, Soul Reaver's legs feel weak.

Silently, he stands before the sword, looking down at it for several moments. Then, turning his eyes away from the sword in loathing and letting out a long, shuddering breath, Soul Reaver closes his hand around Bloooddrinker's hilt and numbly sheathes the weapon in the scabbard on his back.

Blooddrinker was right. He had no choice.

Soul Reaver, a haunted expression on his face, simply lowers his eyes and nods at Cameron. Soul Reaver's face almost looks haggard and aged - it is clear that whatever Cameron has to say to him will not do much to make him feel much worse about this situation than he already does. Natalya's words, though kind, give him little comfort.

Again, innocents had died because of his error. He was losing control over the situation. If only Asaki were here. She would take his mind off these things... perhaps give him time to collect his whirling thoughts.

Breathing deeply, then forcing a small smile of thanks for Kitharsis and Natalya, Soul Reaver walks to the hulking Rhino transports. Settling down in one of the seats, he awaits Cameron's 'talk'.