Snippet #2802989

With the door open, the man made no move, rather the Marines entered the room slowly, cautiously to affix restraints to Emile's wrists, metal handcuffs that would restrain his hands to his back. The Adept of War was only there to provide increased security.

With Emile's hands bound, the Marines threw a burlap sack over his head, and began to lead him out of the cell, their grips firm, but they moved in almost total silence.

Emile would be led through the maze like interior of the Command Carrier, but he wouldn't be led far.

With the burlap sack still over his head, the restraints that bound his hands would be released once they reached the next room, and he would be guided into a chair. His wrists were affixed to wrist restraints integrated into the chair, a neck restraint was fastened to hold his head against the back of the chair, and his ankles were locked to the chair. Lastly, a strap was placed tightly around his midsection, before the burlap sack was pulled from his head.

Standing in front of him was a new person, he was an older man, with short white hair. That short white hair was hidden by the hood that belonged to the rather lavish purple robes the man was wearing.

"Grand Confessor." The Adept said with a bow, and all but a few Marines, and a well dressed technician with stark red hair, and an all black uniform remained, with the Technician standing at some kind of console.

Kesslee seemed to glide over towards Emile, gesturing to the woman at the console, who threw a lever.

Emile would likely feel a deep, indescribable, and intense pain for a short moment, a pain that seemed to soak him to the very core.

"I am Kesslee." The man said, simply.