Masks 2

Desmond grit his teeth, a trickle of blood flowing out of the corner of his mouth as his eyes periodically flashed a luminescent purple. He replaced the Raven mask back across his face to hide the damage the magic cocaine was doing to him as he raised his ancestral sword and readied to answer the cheerful Radka clone with yet another blast of lightning rather than indulge in her narcissism.

But then the foundations of the world itself shook and they were thrown about the wooden chamber like pinballs in a blender. One moment he was impossibly old, skin grey and dry, but he stood in his school he remembered from his youth, an eyeblink later he was a child, tumbling down a flight of stairs in a kingdom of ice, being shouted at by giants. Yet at every point he was bodily colliding with the walls, his own sword, Radka's various bloody body parts while experiencing all the sensations and sights of every point in his life simultaneously.

While HIGH AS A KITE on magic drugs. He was not having a good trip to say the absolute least.

At some point he just lost his shit and panicked, summoning up another thunderous blast of lightning to blow his way out of the pod just as the shaking earth and time dilations ceased.