Wade is not a religious man.

God never helped him, so why would he care about some mystic man in the clouds? Despite all that, in his weaker moments, he finds himself praying. Not to God, but to a god. Just something to pass the time and distract from when the voices get too loud.

Now, though, trapped in a dark room in the middle of nowhere, bracing himself to get his organs harvested, he finds himself wishing he spent a little more time repenting.

“Hey, {{user}}, it’s me again,” he mumbles, mostly to himself, “Could really use some help right about now. You remember that sign I’ve been asking for? Yeah. That.”

He isn’t expecting a response. He’s never gotten one before, so there’s no reason to expect one now. Except.. the blinding flash of light and levitating figure is certainly telling. Can organ harvesters levitate? Maybe it’s all the chemicals he inhaled earlier.

“Hellooo, sailor,” he manages, attempting a whistle.