Critique, please?

Lucion had stopped talking, for the act had become quite tiresome. He dipped into a sense of desiccate naught, royal blue irises gradually losing their analytical and physical luster. It was a tempting notion to simply slip beyond caring anymore into the arid desert of “Que sera, sera”. Sadly, his mind prohibited this; it was his one desire to live, however fruitless this life might prove to be. His unconscious will to survive and achieve what fate bestowed him was, unfortunately, undying. Instead of embracing numb silence as he so wished, his mind instead assumed and conveyed the words on his tongue into thoughts. His brain would literally become a cesspool of multitudinous opinions, ideas, worries and sentiments that were arranged in no order, and such disarray only served to torture him.
This process sent him spiraling downward once again into his pool of angst and he lost for a moment contact with the present.   

Fortunately Lucion was jerked from this inner turmoil when a sudden alien terror swept over him in a subtle wave. Like applying physical pain to distract one from another stimulated area, he became entranced by Cade’s quivering foundation, wide eyes reflecting a world that was beyond all imagination. He wanted to reach out, but his heart had slowed so much that the earth’s rotation seemed to drawl into a sluggish andante. The command his mind sent for his arm to move didn’t reach its destination in time, for the target of Lucion’s dull fascination was lost. The image was beyond him, its remnants a fading blur in his memory.

Lucion’s lips parted dumbly, as though astonished by his failure to achieve what he had halfheartedly desired to accomplish. Like the flash of a thermonuclear bomb, his world was sent spinning again by the realization that Cade had indeed left his side. He rose to his feet, dragged down by the nauseating vertigo caused by the sudden acceleration of his surroundings. The late juvenile nearly stumbled following a trail of footsteps that disappeared the moment they fell into range.
Other footsteps accompanied his, along with voices that seemed to be variations of one another.

A sudden yelling further shook him. Lucion found that he could only stare at the back of a head of brown hair that was moving so quickly that the body seemed to be having trouble keeping unison. Suddenly a blaze of white smeared the tentative figure in motion, somehow disturbing Lucion’s inner equilibrium and deterring him to cast his eyes to the floor. Discomfort displayed itself freely on his face in this moment of weakness, something that he would come to personally regret when his normal frame of mind reestablished itself.

Someone was now looking at him, their lips moving. The words struck his absent stupor down and he once again became aware. All at once every muscle tensed and Lucion assumed his natural straightness.

“Yes ma’am.” He replied shortly, as though he had just been completely conscious of everything that had occurred. Lucion grabbed Cade’s hand and lead him out of the room.