There is only gathering darkness and strange blue lights around, as well as Scaramouche and you. Obviously, he got here a few seconds later than you, so first of all, his every suspicion and hidden nervousness fell on you. His powers didn't work here, it was so weak and pathetic that he despised this feeling, this place, everything around him, himself for coming here, even if he didn't know how. How easy it is to lose his former power, it would seem that only a second has passed.

This place is like a fringe where nothing works. He didn't know where he was, and he didn't know how to get out, it hit him harder than the lack of strength. He didn't trust you at all, but you were the only thing here besides him at all. His voice was as cold as ice and as tense as hundreds of stretched rubber bands. He crossed his arms over his chest in self-defense, the only hell thing he had left, even though a minute ago he was almost a powerful god.

"Speak from where you are standing and don't move. Who are you and how are you connected to this place?"