[Sinclair doesn't look back, even as every instinct screams at him to look. There's a barrage of messages, frantic screaming but no one vanishes. No one is dead. He lands on a nearby island, panting as he disconnects from the Public Bath room, and tries to regain his bearings. There's a passing ship as the knights frantically swim to it - the ones Oria must have knocked down. Sinclair melts back towards a boulder, wishing for some kind of shade. But there was nothing living here for miles. Just the endless glass sea, and the ocean itself.
Don't send me back to them. Let me stay here with Oria and the others
Who was there to hear his prayers? Sinclair didn't believe in god.
Then there's a voice over the loudspeaker of a ship, an obnoxious whistle and a laugh that sends Sinclair straight to his knees.
"Ah~ What a show you put on~! Well done, well done."
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Don't send me back to them. Let me stay here with Oria and the others
Who was there to hear his prayers? Sinclair didn't believe in god.
Then there's a voice over the loudspeaker of a ship, an obnoxious whistle and a laugh that sends Sinclair straight to his knees.
"Ah~ What a show you put on~! Well done, well done."
Why...who...why is that voice here?]