[He already died once, he doesn't need to die again! He lost his sight the first time and that's the whole reason he's stuck out here...he has no idea where he's going and has yet to find a door that will open for him.]
Helel, what time is it?
[The cartoony, jet-black star's deep voice (it hadn't had the hoarse timbre of the friend it was sort of named after available) responds in that pleasantly emotionally neutral tone computers so seem to love:]
It is currently 7:55 PM. You have five minutes to find shelter.
This vile town...Helel, let me speak to the network. Video.
[And the rest is a video feed to the network. It's hard to see his face under the hood of his cloak, but the fact that he's not looking at his tablet says a lot. To say nothing of the way the words just come out of his mouth in a rush, even phrases that should give him pause like "I died three days ago".]
Everyone...listen, I need help. I don't know how to tell you where I am; I can't see, I died three days ago and woke without my sight. I need to find shelter, I-
[His voice breaks, and then he stumbles into a mailbox, the tablet clattering to his feet. His shadow obscures the camera as he searches for it, and then his groping hand when he finds it. There's the rustling of fabric, distressed breathing, and a sliding, scraping sound. When the feed clears it's looking up at the snowfall, set on Enoch's lap as he sits against the mailbox. How is he going to find shelter in five minutes when he's running into things?]
I don't want to die again...but I can't ask any of you to die with me, can I?
So...talk to me. Someone talk to me so I don't die alone. Please.
[Of course, a mailbox means there's a building nearby. But he's not modern in the slightest and doesn't know this. He doesn't even know what it is he bumped into.]
Enoch | El Shaddai | 1-ish
Helel, what time is it?
[The cartoony, jet-black star's deep voice (it hadn't had the hoarse timbre of the friend it was sort of named after available) responds in that pleasantly emotionally neutral tone computers so seem to love:]
It is currently 7:55 PM. You have five minutes to find shelter.
This vile town...Helel, let me speak to the network. Video.
[And the rest is a video feed to the network. It's hard to see his face under the hood of his cloak, but the fact that he's not looking at his tablet says a lot. To say nothing of the way the words just come out of his mouth in a rush, even phrases that should give him pause like "I died three days ago".]
Everyone...listen, I need help. I don't know how to tell you where I am; I can't see, I died three days ago and woke without my sight. I need to find shelter, I-
[His voice breaks, and then he stumbles into a mailbox, the tablet clattering to his feet. His shadow obscures the camera as he searches for it, and then his groping hand when he finds it. There's the rustling of fabric, distressed breathing, and a sliding, scraping sound. When the feed clears it's looking up at the snowfall, set on Enoch's lap as he sits against the mailbox. How is he going to find shelter in five minutes when he's running into things?]
I don't want to die again...but I can't ask any of you to die with me, can I?
So...talk to me. Someone talk to me so I don't die alone. Please.
[Of course, a mailbox means there's a building nearby. But he's not modern in the slightest and doesn't know this. He doesn't even know what it is he bumped into.]