450
With no meddlesome colleague obstructing him, Traynor smoothly entered the storage room housing the Red Angel's spare vessel using his own credentials.
Pipes filled the room, and all the equipment was running normally. In this room, which felt rather technological, but not entirely so, the limbs, torso, and head were sealed behind Walls of Spirituality in different ways.
Traynor knew how to assemble it, but still took out the instruction manual for a look. Medici passed through the wall and read over his shoulder with interest for a few moments before losing interest in the messy handwriting:
"I was only gone a little while, and Storm's aura disappeared. Where's that octopus tentacle? You didn't even invite me to the barbecue."
"It could yield several portions of potion ingredients. I handed it over to the Pilgrimage Church."
"The Pilgrimage Church has someone from the Storm Pathway?"
"A demigod. She might roast the octopus tentacle and eat it."
"She?" Medici rubbed his chin and floated over to sit on an empty crate by the wall. "Sounds like an interesting person."
Traynor slapped away the Wall of Spirituality beside him, lifted out the upper torso, laid it flat on the workbench, and opened the articulated clasps at its metal spine, shoulders, and neck. As these small restraints were released, the other components in the room immediately began responding to one another. An arm in a metal case fitted with glass twitched, pressing its palm against the glass, the gun barrel in its center resembling an eye.
The War Bishop reached out and tapped the glass. The hand immediately lay down and played dead.
Having warned the restless body parts, Traynor replied casually, "She certainly is interesting."
"Her surname used to be Kottman."
Having successfully piqued Medici's interest with a piece of gossip,