His face had that "I'm a lucky bastard" gleam it always got when they indulged in their naughtiest impulses together.She was carried to the door to Marcus's "office", the spare room he'd planned to turn into a home office, but which instead kept getting used as a dumping ground for hand-me-down furniture, unwanted gifts, old books and etc. But as they opened the door and carried her in, her breath caught in her throat in surprise. The room was now floored, wall to wall, in mattresses, the walls were tiled in mirrors and the ceiling had several of the bands' old lighting rigs mounted into the corners with a small mirror ball spinning slowly in the centre and casting little drifting points of light around the room. She also spotted several small cameras mounted at various points around the room. She had no doubt he was recording the scene, as usual."Holy shit Marcus... What's this?" Well, I figured the garage had become my office, so I thought I'd use the wasted room for something. BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!As time passed they continued in the same loudness but growing, sort of emotional, intensity.From the first day of training, the moment it placed a shady palm on the soul and shivered; Zax’s spirit clenched its fist and punched and punched and punched.Its awareness was gone, but the happening etched to the soul and various experiences on his cultivation path aroused something imperceptible that initially was embryotic, like the black buds he discovered when he reached the state of Warood Meditation and his Inner Panorama appeared, and metamorphosed along the Inner Panorama after every comprehended bottleneck of insight.Now, as his awareness was pacing on the thin line of success and above the abyss of failure, his spirit, driven by something that through the years fostered in it, restlessly beat the soul for him to awake up, while desiring to this time partake the journey along its awareness on the new path.‘What’s ... this noise?’‘Who is it?’‘Who... ? What... ?.
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