'A lifetime,' Morgana answered, looking at the other woman. She must be this "S. Groves" that Morgana had been told she was to assist with some problem or the other. It might as well have been written in ancient Samarian to her, even though she'd read the assignment at least fifteen times.

'Who knows, maybe we could get in a few hail mary's if the... machinery decides to relive yesterday.' the way she said "machinery" was neither certain nor happy. If she'd been given a way, she would have happily set them all on fire yesterday. Morgana turned the laser pistol body and barrel over in her hands, neither sure of if they were meant to be put together, nor if she wanted too have them in her possession at all.

'We should get going,' Morgana said, hopping to her feet and going to move forward but uncertain of where these so-called confession booths were supposed to be. 'Uh.'