Ianthe continued to scramble away from Toi until she found her back pressed up against the wall of the maintenance tunnel, at which point she slid down into a defensive crouch and held the telekinetic blade up at the ready. She grimaced, trying to find focus, trying to chase the gruesome illusions out of her mind, but they continued to overlay her<i>real</i>senses like bloody afterimages. The feral shriek, accompanied by the psychic warning, didn't help matters: it simply prompted another tortured whimper from her.<span style="color: teal">"Have to... have to find Neymi, have to help her,"</span>she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut.<br/><br/>That small act seemed to provide her a moment of lucidity.<span style="color: teal">"Darion, this thing, whatever it is. You have to let Toi and Cypher deal with it. It can't affect their minds. Neymi and me and you, we're all vulnerable until they put it down, and I can't..."</span>Another violent shudder wracked her slender body, as focus eluded her.<span style="color: teal">"I <i>can't</i>,"</span>she repeated, the words hot with frustration and anger and pain.<br/><br/><b>[ Mental Resistance: roll 1 + skill 9 = 10 ]</b><br/><br/>(Can't shake the hallucinations, ugh.)<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>