[Suzerain of Sheol]

Before they get very far, Shealtiel notices Michael's injuries and approaches the artificer. Meeting his eyes with a grave intensity, he grabs Michael about the shoulders. "This will not be... pleasant," he says flatly.

Once more, the old man's eyes empty, becoming twin portals to the same abyss. All at once, Michael feels a surge of harrowing cold, like needles of ice piercing every pore of his skin. And yet, for all its freezing agony, he can feel his wounds mending, bone knitting and flesh sealing itself with scars.

When it is over, Shealtiel does not appear winded and simply looks upon Michael as though assessing his work. "There," he concludes. "Much better. I cannot mend minds, though. You may carry trauma from this, phantom pain, perhaps--"

He notices that the psychic woman has continued on with the others without them and moves to follow with Michael in tow.