Moving

'What the fuck?' Khan cried in his mind. His overbearing attitude vanished, and his playful self came out. "Did you hit your head, old man?"

Abraham didn't move. He remained prostrated on the floor as if waiting for permission to lift his head. Still, Khan knew nothing of those customs and half-crouched to get closer to the kneeling man.

"Did you faint, too?" Khan asked, stretching an arm to poke Abraham.

Of course, Khan could sense Abraham's state, but the odd situation almost made him forget about the previous speech. Getting called "Prince" simply felt too strange, and that wasn't the end of it.

'Am I feeling comfortable?' Khan wondered.

Abraham's muffled aura had changed, transforming the symphony around him and affecting Khan. That wasn't the result of a technique. Otherwise, Khan would have sensed it. Something different had happened, and Khan knew what to blame.