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"What are you talking about?" said Parson.

Morgunov stared at him for a second. "So you're not even gonna acknowledge that stellar pun I just dropped on you? Jackson not feeling too 'hot,' anymore? Hmm? C'mon, that was great."

Parson wasn't much in the mood to play along.

"Hmph," huffed the emperor. "Well, if you're going to be rude, then I don't see why I should explain anything to you. Only good boys deserve explanations."

And before Parson could even respond, Morgunov stepped over him and walked away.

The machines began to disperse, creating more room around the pile of captives and allowing Parson to get a better look at the enormous chamber they were in. It seemed to be some sort of hangar. He spotted several main battle tanks in the distance and even a few fighter jets parked even farther away. And unless his eyes deceived him, those models were the Altay and the F4 Phantom, respectively, both of which informed Parson that Morgunov had brought them to Calthos.

It was a bit strange that such units were sharing a hangar, but this place looked largely abandoned otherwise, so there was no telling why only a handful of such expensive units would be here to begin with. Decommissioned hardware would normally be stored in much larger quantities than this while they waited to be scrapped for parts or perhaps sold off.

Morgunov wasn't heading for those units, though. He he was going toward a line of long workbenches. Parson was content to wait here and not see what exactly the madman was going to do over there. He tried to nudge himself closer to Lamont, hoping to prod him awake, perhaps.

It didn't work so well. Even if he wasn't chained up, his body still felt incredibly weak, and he couldn't seem to harness his power of oxygen transfiguration at all. His head felt mostly clear, if a bit sluggish, but his body was numb all over.