[Aiden is halfway across the globe when he feels a familiar tug calling his blood back to Repose, it is peculiar in its familiarity, because it shouldn’t be. His next pick-up by any means not ready yet, the timing too off to be a natural cause. But… there is nothing left here anyhow, battle drawn to an end, the last blood seeping into the sand, so drags the last flecks of rust colored liquid into thin lines across his right cheek and secures the scarf over his nose and mouth. The final soul shipped off, the next portal brings him to a door he recognizes as the one leading to Atticus’s study. He doesn’t knock just enters as the spirits in the building scatter in panic, sending static through the air. His signature coat replaced by Pashtun desert garb, Perahan tunban, turban and scarf on brand in a deep pitch black. He might not look ready for the ball, but despite the weariness around his eyes he exudes a calm energy that packs quite the punch. The seer isn’t dead. Which, is a relief, probably.] You… called?