"You know," said a a disembodied voice that didn't belong to any saint, "I've heard that the sensoriums are a good place to take out your frustrations. But I don't think this was exactly what the people who said it had in mind."

The tone was flat, ironic rather than sarcastic or teasing. The voice was low and gravelly, though it sounded like it belonged to someone still in his youth. There was the distinct sound of metal on metal from somewhere in the shadows above. And if Jean-Paul looked hard enough he would probably be able to discern four small, red points of light in the darkness. Raiden had walked into the Sensorium by accident. Finding it already in use, he'd spent awhile flitting through the shadows of the city. That is, until he'd heard the screaming.