Someone hides deep in darkness, in a back room without electric lighting. Nor is there air condition, and the air is close and hot and thick. And he does not breathe. Haquien walks slowly into the room, things crunching under his heavy boots. The Force extends weakly from him, searching, searching, until it retracts. Several give the Officer strange looks. "Amalfiel?" he asks the room, the shadows, in a calm, quiet voice. He takes a shallow breath, perhaps in nervousness. Deeper. Amalfiel is deeper, in a back room. He is alone. "Amalfiel?" he asks, his voice quieter still. "I suppose you must."