The American continued to lead the way, clearly a hardened professional, and they ascended. They came out on the next floor and gave it a quick scan, but there were no signs of movement. Achilles cursed as they went back up the stairs--this floor showed signs of activity, but it would have to wait. The next floor was much the same story, and so was the next. Each time the sounds grew louder, and Achilles was sure the source would be on the next floor. But as they reached the landing of the 8th floor, finally something different--the American peeked in, pulled back, flattened himself against the wall, and took a long drag on a cigarette that Achilles was all but certain wasn't there just a second ago. A nod of his head indicated that he wanted the ork to take a look for himself.
Achilles looked around the corner and surveyed the room; an open floor plan partitioned by shelves of books, with tables set up between and in the center of the room. The windows here were all shuttered, many from the inside, but the room was lit by the new addition of computer terminals, tall but thin glass tubes of glowing fluids, and ghostly figures wandering throughout. Softly glowing colors in human shape paged through books or wandered idly, apparently unaware of the two metahuman intruders. Above it all, in the center of the room, a spherical light hovered, like a lamp with no glass, unsupported by anything, casting a green glow on the whole room.
Achilles shouldered the LMG and stepped in. He tracked possible targets as they moved, but still nothing took note of him. He tracked forward towards the center of the room, the American following and looking none too happy about it, but without incident. From here, the source of the wailing was clear--when one of the beings stepped too far away from a pylon, it flickered, disappearing for a moment before appearing as flesh, then returning to glowing light, apparently a tortuous process. The giggling wasn't yet clear, at least to Achilles, but he wasn't terribly concerned about it at present. He reached a chair surrounded by books, pages, and terminals, and taking one more glance around for hostiles, set down his machine gun and sat down.
"Cover me." He instructed the American as he began sifting through notebooks and data chips, looking for something worthwhile. He paged through old books on ancient alchemy and data chips labeled "geological survey" or "anatomy of metahumanity". Not having any luck, he tried his hand at the computer terminal--surprisingly controlled by a full-sized keyboard--but found it unsurprisingly locked. He pulled out his commlink and plugged in the connector cable to the terminal on the keyboard. A progress cube began to assemble in the air above it as the 'link went to work cracking into the much older and inferior tech. "Hacking agent." Achilles said simply as he waited. He glanced around and noticed that a few of the beings were now apparently staring, but not acting with any hostility. Still, it made him uncomfortable, and he looked up again at the green orb with curiosity and suspicion. Without looking away, he asked the American, "Do you know of magic?"