[Accidental Video]
[Solomon stumbles backwards to press his back against the wall of a nearby building, his usual calm splintering as he takes in his surroundings. His eyes dart around in a bewildered panic and his hands instinctively reach for something that should be at his side but isn't. The chevalier's voice is hushed, his breathing coming
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Who is this... Identify yourself!
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I see you don't even recall who I am now. Very well. It's Aion. I suppose you could say we're business colleagues.
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I don't... you said we know each other?
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[He pushes away from the wall, eyes searching over the ruins of the once intact city for her.]
Who's there?
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Quiet! You're not helping yourself if you panic.
[Sharp, quick, authoritative. Hopefully that got through to him.]
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[His voice stays lowered, and he peers intently down at the device in his hands, only momentarily glancing around to make certain that there's no immediate danger.]
Right, right... [He takes a few deep breaths to help him focus.]
Madam, where are all the men?
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[Best find out to what new low he's sunk. She was starting to wonder if they'd ever meet under normal circumstances]
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It's August 12th, 1917. That's right, isn't it?
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