Where is this? Michael wondered, for the millionth time, as the aircraft slowed and began its descent. The picture had been with him forever, and it offered no meaning or explanation: Just a simple, snow covered farm. He had tried everything to identify the location, the type of tree, the building style, even stellar references. All in a futile quest to find out where this farm was, and why he had a picture of it. He glanced out the window and stared aimlessly out at the Emerald Forest for a moment, wondering what threats waiting just below the leafy canopy, Grimm, White Fang, it did not matter. There was something out there, and it wanted him dead. Something that might get the drop on him... Was the landing area even safe? He wondered. Paranoia kept him alive, but it did not keep him warm at night. His best defense lay only six inches from him. ALISS was set against the wall, the barrel pointed towards the roof and sky beyond. It would probably punch through the thin skin of the airship, but the railgun was not designed for close quarters combat. Michael listened to the conversations and buzzing of humans and fanus around him, but he was uninterested in the content. Most of the world’s facets were mysteries to him. You want to assault a building or take down a Grimm? No problem, I can help with that. You want to talk about Grifball or movies? Forget it, no way no how.