[Munch's Master]

Dek dreamed. He dreamed he was shrank down to a tiny size, no taller than a pen. Now, this would all be well and good, were it not for the other aspect of the dream- that being the fact he was furiously trying to escape from gigantic Vykkers attempting to catch him, beliveing he was a genetic mutation to experiment upon. He ran, dodging Snuzi darts and wild swipes with claws, then stumbled and fell. Lying down, he looked up and felt 4 great metal claws clamp on him, and begin violently shaking him as if they were electrified.
"No! NOOOO!! Not this! Not like this! It's not what you thi-"
Dek woke from his nightmare to realise that he was, in fact, regular size, no Vykkers were chasing him, and the only claws grabbing him were those of Praetyre. He cut his sentence off, embarrassed.
"Never speak of this again."
He got up off the bed, regarding Praetyre. "Go find #7 Slig, or send somebody after him. He's physically capable and is trained security, so can probably deal with Molt. I'll go check on him."
He walked into the room where Molt was, but he noticed there was no Slig to be found. He froze in horror, and spun round at Praetyre. "He's gone!"