Monday, September 27, 2021

Babylon 5: The Skin Suit

 Saving this here to remind myself that Hollowwood lies. And keeps lying. That's it.

If the Original Run wasn't broken. Don't Try to MODERNIZE IT. But they don't care. The skinsuits never do. Get Physical Copies of the Real Babylon 5. And Crusade. Listen to him talk about TNT and its interference and you will wonder why he sold B5 to the CW. 

By doing a remake he spits on the original cast and actors/actresses that are gone beyond the Rim. No one will ever replace them for me. Not even the creator of Babylon 5.

Good luck to you JMS. I will not be joining on this "reboot." It is Dead on Arrival for me. Nor will I "Hate" watch it. I will ignore it from this time forward. 

First Superman and now Babylon 5. Hollowwood will not provide me with anything worthwhile. So I look to indies. Do not let them kill the past. Babylon 5 is still in the realm of the physical. Go get the copies while you can. Me? Ill be here offering Alternatives to everything that ever influenced me.

Ill always recommend Babylon 5. 

Not the imitation. 

The Uplift Protocol Escape Velocity Issue 1


Issue 1: Tarkanan Depths


                That Scholar is up to its old tricks. Yes, my husband has her implanted but my intuition tells me this “doctor” will tip the balance. Thoth agrees with me but he has no hold over Tarkanan just yet. I do not care what my husband says now. I will find a way to break Lanis. Then deliver her broken remains to Eliza Murphy.—The All-Mother.

            What will undo the evil of this Universe? Living despite fear. Standing fast in the face of the worst it can throw and still offer a hand to your allies. It is natural to fear the dark. It is why we must bring the Light with us.—Sy’ra

            If my plans with Lanis fall through I will convert the last vestiges of my soul to the thing growing within my wife. Either way, I will escape the Trap my enemies have set for me. Does Thoth wish my dominion? He may have it. Along with my defective heirs. Tarkanan will not be quick to master. My dear wife only knows what I want her to know. Thus has been the foundation of our Union.—The All-Father.

            A piece of my heart was closed off. It was the only way I could focus on the mission before me. In a way, Anna’s constant needling provided a sense of balance that carried me through the survey missions. I knew why Lorian’s mission had to be shielded. Ritark’s part would be just as vital to their survival. So many of us gained abilities by having one foot in each world.—Sleeping in Starlight, a memoir of the 23rd century (vol 7)


Breeding Pits

March 12th, 2116


            Lorain dug her hands into her belt to hide the tremors. What passed for the “medical section” on this planet was abhorrent. A very light touch along her skull reminded her of Ritark’s part in all this. Sy’ra’s expression was open distaste. Everything the Scholar woman did was an outright act of defiance. Lorain watched as Nyx tested the thing growing within the All-Mother. Lanis did not consider that a baby. The way the All-Father observed from the dais enkindled vivid imagery of a snake waiting for someone to take up its offer of an apple. His leg was draped over a throne of grey matted metals. Forged from the remnant ores of this cursed place.

            He called out, “So dear Nyx, is it a boy or girl?”

            The Keeper glanced at Lanis, her eyes drinking in the mental agony of the Terran’s situation, then she glanced down at the All-Mother. The Typherian’s face was drawn. Her pupils dilated. Nyx stated, “The boy is growing faster than anticipated. Some oddities with the spinal structure.”

            The Urraden Mother snapped, “My blood is pure! What non-sense….”

She clamped her mouth shut as the human’s gaze narrowed at the utterance.


            Z’tar Urraden forced his wife to speak out loud. Her expression of betrayal was a fine wine to his main course. The baby would be a viable backup plan. Should his primary fail. He would force the doctor to remove the fetus before it could grow enough proper Typherian spinal nodes. He had fresh material he could provide. Complete sampling of his body in its prime. She had rebuilt the stunted material of Ayeer filth. This would be child’s play for the Terran mongrel. He strolled out of the surgical theater, pulling Lanis along by using Sy’ra as a proper leash.

            “I know it's not of my body. She ruts about with my mirror. They think I don’t know. How unfortunate for them.” The Scholar said nothing. Her back stiffened. Her features were cold and proud. He smirked at the pitiable defiance. Letting her think each action would prove something. It would be so delicious to see it all burn around her.

            He studied the human. That one was coiled tight. Expecting trouble from every corner. The blemishes under her eyes caused him to smile in her direction, “Are your sleeping arrangements adequate my dear?”  Lanis said nothing. The All-Father curled his fingers under the woman’s chin. “Answer or the Scholar will suffer for your defiance.”

Lanis grimaced, “Sure. 5-star accommodations.”

Urraden smirked.

“I found a rather interesting anomaly with your “demi” powers. You are quite infertile. Is that why you rut about with the Ayeer mongrel? I bet she is just as compromised.”

Lorain would have tripped but Sy’ra reached out and steadied her.

They were able to connect this because of Ren. Even while her body lived, she never kindled, but your case is very different. Do not trust his observations!

            Lorain retorted harshly, “Like I haven’t heard that House talking point.”

            It still cut to the heart. She had hoped to have a surrogate but her powers made that impossible. The constant rejuvenation running through her veins prevented certain kinds of growth. From cancer to pregnancy. Her body was constantly resetting itself to optimal settings. She knew it even as the All-Father intoned, “You shall live forever!”

            They were guided to the battle halls. Doc stared. Her mind turning in on itself.

            I will never die. Everything she loved would turn to dust.

            A torturous agony entered her heart: Is that why I am with Eliza? Because she will live longer than most?

Sy’ra’s left hand wrapped around Lanis’ wrist. The Scholar eyed the White Owls leering down from the highest alcoves. Wretched things. Through the Dreaming, she plucked at Lorain’s soul. Guiding it away from emotional cliffs.

This place would not take her.


            Ritark watched the Artock fight.

Knowing that Lorain’s feelings didn’t allow her to view things objectively. It was up to him to record information at this junction. He dared not send out any visible signal. That included speech. Even if he was connected to Lorain directly for the moment. He feared that the All-Father would have a way to detect any output. Since they had the mummy as a baseline.

He watched as the All-Father extended his arms, “You think the Artock are our only puppets? How quaint. We let you come here, Doctor. Even if your precious Terran Alliance removed your implants your forces are a mere mote of dust next to the legions we will call forth!”

Ritark’s third eye twitched. The dark mirror network culled souls from other universes! Placing them within the Artock. Placing them within the endless shells. He watched as a dark metallic spider approached, her voice ringing out, “I have done as you asked.”



            Lorain watched as the spindled creature approached. Its brain glowing within the murky brackish waters. Then it spoke. Turing its gray matter to Lorain, “YOU!”

Black arms threaded themselves one inch above Lanis’ heart.  E’ratha hissed, “Let me cut her. She will heal anyway!” A small drop of blood ran down those black metallic spikes. The All-Father flicked his wrist and E’ratha floated above them.

“Later. This one is under my auspices for now.”

E’ratha shouted, “That mud monkey stole my DNA archives! I know it!”

Urraden responded, “I will let you have some fun after she has completed my project.”

E’ratha’s appendages swiped at Lorain’s head, “I will give you nightmares you base-born human. Make that face a monument to pain that even your precious Scion mongrel will find disturbing. I'll have Ren mark you! SHE CAN!”

The howling went on for ages.

Lanis’ face remained stone.

I must not give in. Find what makes those mirrors tick!



Survey Sector 1973.34

Javelin Bright Dawn


            One month. At least.

During the day it was simple enough to ignore but at night? That place next to me was a stark reminder. I threw on my flight jacket. Looking at the primordial world through the Bright Dawn’s readouts.

Jacob remarked, “Hope we don’t find another White Owl mess with this one.”

Glaive trotted over to me and pressed his head into my hands. <<We must explore. That is our duty. The Dreaming needs us now.>>

I loaded up the shuttle. “I’ll go down first. To get a fresh Dreaming impression.”

We had done this on 12 other planets. From Gas Giants to Earth-likes. No sign of White Owls or Unity corruption. Within the Dreaming? A multi-hued mist. A blank canvas as far as sapient activity. As I descended through the clouds the world below was a red expanse. A literal crimson sea. As I flew I circled an edge of cliffs, bright yellow plants crisscrossed the ground.

White said, “There is life here.”

She was seated next to me. Her tigress form pointed to the sun.

I asked, “Sunbathing?”

She opened one golden eye, “Oh yes. One never knows when we will have actual quiet!”

Her whiskers twitched, “We will find a way to get Lanis back. I promise you.”

My heart lifted momentarily.

Then my dark matter sight locked in on a swirling mass in the distance. I guided the shuttle towards it. Setting down in a field of bright green flowers. Situated on a remote hillock was a mirror of silver. Its glass pulling at me. Unlike the dark mirrors, this one dug into my soul. Filled it with a song that chased away all my darker thoughts.


            White kept pace with Eliza. Wondering why this particular area of land engaged her so. Her eyes were locked on the middle horizon. Her hands reaching out before her. White’s gaze narrowed as small slips of energy crackled against Eliza’s palms. Sigils formed on the ground.

She sat. Her mouth agape. “I didn’t think those existed. Yet it must be true!” Hidan’s winged form unfurled in her memory.

            “Unity steals every idea it can from that which it hates.” White glanced up.

            How much did Black know? How much did she know?

            Eliza’s mouth moved, the words torn from her lips, “I know much is at stake but can I at least get a straiter answer from myself!?”

            White’s ears flattened against her head at the astringent tone. She couldn’t blame Murphy for it. Knowing that Lanis was in the middle of a snake’s den didn’t help. White kneaded the ground with her massive front paws. “A one-sided conversation.” She circled. The guilt stabbing her at her core. Eliza would probably tell her immediately. Unlike the rest of them. Secrets within secrets. All to preserve more souls. That didn’t stop the heavy feeling dragging her under. Much like the wayward Uplift Protocol, she often questioned how much to hold back, wondering if that was the most suitable response.

The Path Of Ancients


July 12th, 4201


            I stared into the Light Mirror. Lorain stuck to my side like a burr that wouldn’t ever let go. She winced as my younger self vented. I took every hit. I remembered how all of it had felt. We were at the main temple of the Three along the old path. Within its hallowed halls of ancient memory was the first network. Mirrors that the Silver Lady and Void Man had cared for. Protected by every facet of the Weave. For only the Highest could see all points of Time.

            Lorain reached out to touch the glass. “Can she see me?”

            >>No. I can only see myself in these mirrors.<<

            Lorain said, “The only time I remember you being this upset was…” She fell silent.

            I replied, >> Tarkanan. The Haze. I must pass on these words so Time remains true for Eden.<<


                Lorain gripped my arm. Her fingers clawing into my bicep, “You better tell yourself who’s with me or I swear I will drop kick you.” I glanced down at her. Taking a moment to send a very special mental postcard. Her lips quirked.

            >>Would you like mustard with that tall stack order?<<

            I knew I was stalling. Lorain rested her head against my arm.

            “I still wish you could have gone with me. But that’s what they would have wanted.”


            I know I was venting. Yelling out all my frustrations at my older self.

Dressed in that burial uniform. “I get it. Gotta keep stuff from the enemy.”

The reflection in the mirror frowned. “Nothing I can say will soothe any feelings of disquiet. Without the context…” I could see it in her face. My face. Was I still trapped by fate? Her eyes darkened. Hidden pain locked away. The weight of her emotions rolled over me. Not pity. Shared determination.

I rested my forehead against the cool glass.

“Context.” The word was ash on my tongue.

White said, “That is a common defense. Older one, when a house is built on secrets, how much should we keep from each other? This is a weight that haunts me.”

The other glanced down, “I know it. The time for secrets is ending.”

She glanced down at something I couldn't see. Her face paling at the words.

 Her question bit deeply, “Tell me, if you know the chessboard and the pieces, how would you determine fate? Who wins? Who dies? What souls are lost.”

I retorted hotly, “It seems like I'll be the chess master in all this.”

It was churlish.

Immature yet I indulged for once.

I had never really asked. Always trusted but here was myself. My final self? I didn’t know but she had more context. More answers. If I couldn’t get anything from her who else could I ask?

She responded with, “You are a piece on the board. So is Unity. Tarkanan will fall. Its embers to be collected by Thoth. By the Lord of Chains. The son of Z’tar Urraden. The All-Father of our universe.” She leaned in. Her harsh expression bleeding all rage from me for the moment.

“Do you know how Thoth killed our family within Eliza Odessen’s universe? He cut V’alkor from his mother’s womb. Do you wish to see it? Do you?!” She reached out. Lines blurred.

Screams, maniacal laughter, the pleading of a mother.

I beheld it all. My stomach turned.

I fell to the soft grass. The images sticking with me far more than my current nightmares.

She crouched with me. Our faces were separated by that thin line of glass.

“We are the piece on the board that will protect everyone. So that is why others must go out and work the will of the Highest. So more may live. Survive what is coming. Our brother is a linchpin but you? Rather us. We are the fulcrum. That wind which will change everything.”

Fulcrum? That was a joke. If so I was the most faulty piece in the wheel.

I snarled, “Dexter knows so much more than I do. So does Black. How can I help others evade these traps if I cannot see it?!”

She responded, “Because he will guard the Gate of Death. To ensure Unity’s bloated corpse doesn’t escape its final fate.”

I recoiled. My vision blurred.

My voice rumbled through the mirror, “Those are not tears for others.” The statement hit me like a vise. Digging into my brain. What would people think if they saw me now? Crying out into the Void with self-pity.

White’s understanding cut through everything, “If anyone should get a moment to vent it’s you Captain Murphy.”  I wiped away my tears. Lorain didn’t need my moping. She needed a parachute when the time came. To get out of that place would be hard enough. Even with Sy’ra’s help.


            Doc’s boot firmly launched itself into my hindquarters.

“Keep your promise!” Her tone was half-serious. She hadn’t realized at the time how much her absence had affected me. I rose from my crouch. Watching as my doppelganger of time reflected and collected herself. The shame twisting through us both. We existed on many levels. Thanks to the Highest. To Convergence. To Unity.

            The Vigil remained.

            My final moves had yet to be made.

            You’d think dying and coming back would be the masterstroke move. Nope.

            Sentinel’s voice filled my mind, >>Not all those who wander are lost. They just need a good kick from time to time!<<

            I leaned in closer to the mirror, “Doc isn’t alone. Sy’ra is there and will be able to help. She is a Dream Weaver. She has seen many corridors while suspended within the All-Father’s domain. Even now she plots with Lorain. Ritark is with them. His heritage mirrors our own.”

            She rose. Floating a few inches off the ground, “Ritark? Thank god. I didn’t think any of the Redeemers would be able to…”

She rubbed her face. “I’m an idiot. A heartsick blind idiot.”

            Lorain tugged on my ear. “And?” Her eyes were locked on my younger image.

            I squared my shoulders, “You will join the Terran fleets assaulting Tarkanan.”


            My fists clenched, “I know a but when I hear it.”

            My older self pinched the bridge of her nose.

            “Indeed. When all you can hear is static. The Haze of battle. Remember what you stand for. What Lorain would want you to do at that moment.”

            I froze. Considering the words.


            Lorain watched as resolve filled through those lost innocent eyes.

            The past and future all melding together to create a new dynamic.

            The mirror shifted. Silver Defender Murphy relayed one last message, “We will see each other again. Ith’aria will need the matrix from the Tower of the Lidless. It resides along the Path. That is part of your future. Set’s disease will prove to be an inoculation against something else.”

            The illumination of the old hall dissipated. The moonlight overhead, glittering through the plexiglass domes, shrouded Eliza’s features for a moment. Then faint blue orbs swirled around them. Eliza rose two feet into the air. Taking Lorain with her. When Murphy opened her eyes once more, they gleamed with silver radiance. “What color are they now? First, it was cosmic yellow, then Starstuff made my eyes the green within green….”

            Lorain reached up to brush a lock of brown hair away from Eliza’s cheek.

            “Well considering your Defender status….”

            From the archway, Gulliver looked on, <<There she is. The old lady herself.>>

            Trouble waddled closer. The chamber filled with the soft glow of the Weave.<<I think we will make it. I bet that’s why she never told us how this final bout would go down!>> 

            Gulliver said, <<Besides unless it's Teddy, people shouldn’t tell me the odds.>>


Earth, Swiss Alps

March 14th, 2116


            Ren paced about this apartment.

Did Murphy live like this? It was spartan. A few pictures but it carried no touch. No mental impressions or life-bearing echoes. She picked up one of the pictures. Old wooden frame. It hit her senses. That had a spark of the old life. She brushed her thumb against the photo. Lanis’ mother had black hair. The father’s eyes. Yet no echoes came from the picture. She ran it through the scanner.

            It was legitimate. She frowned. Her skin coiling about her face like a parody.

            She knew that the museum wouldn’t have all the personal details. She replaced the photo. Plastering a smile on her face as J’ino and J’dax entered.


E’taria returned the fake smile.  The monster had been so focused on finding out about Eliza she never realized that everything planted here about Doc was so far off base that it would send ripples back to Murphy about how fake the “replacement”  was. Her brother, Mi’tan raised an eyebrow, “We have a situation that could use your expertise Dr. Lanis.” They never used Lorain’s nickname. Another sign that the Mummy never truly cared about mastery. Just enough to think she was fooling imbeciles. They would let her think she was infiltrating Alliance areas. They even gave her implants that would load her with falsified information. That had just enough kernel of truth.

E’taria waved Ren towards the transport.

They had four other planted sleeping quarters for her to “leech” from.

The final trial would be aboard the Jupiter Rising. The ship would record what it could of the Mummy’s biosignature. Down to the last hair follicle. If she had any real hair.

>>Cousin, how’s Victor?<<

J’ino’s bright reply soothed E’taria’s frayed nerves for a moment.

>>Walking upright and very adventurous. <<

With J’ino having one child in womb suspension they didn’t want this vampire husk anywhere near her. So E’taria continued the ruse.

She asked J’ino, >>So, what’s your favorite Earth food?<<

>>Pancakes. Why?<<

E’taria grinned, >>I love sushi.<<

A thin line of disgust ran through the Family's mental nets.

>>If that’s the case, eat the crab legs too. That will tell Eliza something is horrendously wrong.<<


            I linked back to mom. Of everyone in the family, I could hear her mental voice anywhere.

            >>Ma, encounter any stories about mirrors in Typherian folklore. Ones that can cross the boundaries of time and space.<<

            I watched INet feeds through Bright Dawn’s relays as I waited. Doc’s cover/body swap was something else. Robotic was the politest way I could put it. I don’t think I could even fake hugging her. I shuddered. White rumbled, “Considering your luck with mirrors….”

She swatted at my other hand. I had told her everything from that episode. I didn’t have to say anything to Gwen or Anna. Spilled the beans to Grandma as well. Anna’s reply had been quite serious. “Sometimes to know the future or any possibility is to be trapped by it.”  

Her visions of my brother and my enslavement.

Grandma Murphy had been blunter, “Kiddo, not even I’d want to know what would be in store. Life should be full of surprises. Go with your gut!”

Mom got back to me, >>The Isle of Ikaris Solundra. I'll send the file over.<<

She sent a mental picture of Victor. Cute as a button.

Nearly one already. Time flew.

I would give him a world free of Unity.

Prologue: Here

Issue 2:  Here

The Uplift Protocol Escape Velocity Prologue


The Uplift Protocol: Escape Velocity

Copyright © 2021 by K..M. Able

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to those living or dead is coincidental.


Brand Zero, a path of storytelling vital in the landscape of Post Modernism Deconstruction.


Prologue: I Spy With My Eye


            Our chroniclers still wonder: Why choose Eliza Murphy? Wouldn’t her mind eventually break down from all Time Travel? Our scribes can only observe the past. If we try to leave artifacts they disappear nearly instantly. We figure this must be the Weave preventing contamination. –Ruminations on the 21st through 3oth centuries

            Trouble always kept his feet moving forward. I did the same yet with one major difference: The Weave, by the will of the Highest, decided I’d be the one to play “Keep the Eye on the Ducky!” with Ren. I usually called her Beef Jerky though. No amount of life force could make that thing appealing or human or even one iota of pleasant.—Gulliver

            The Curator showed me this bit at least. Yes, time travel did do a number on me, especially in the beginning. This is why I only have flashes of what happened during my death. I don’t wish that kind of journey on anyone. The Ur-Stone had, to the best of my understanding, mind slates. My memories and actions from various periods throughout my life. A deadman’s switch upon me “striking” Unity. Then those fragments would go out, rippling along the timeline to course-correct what beings higher than me deemed vital for the survival of the Multiverse and Eden. The one-armed me? That was the closest version facing the Cliffs.—Sleeping in Starlight, a memoir of the 23rd century (vol 5)

Galactic Core


July 10th, 4201


            I broke the surface of the water.

Wrestling what could be considered a horse-sized T-Rex with wings. Gulliver quacked, <<Great Job Hot Sause!>> Its 6-inch fangs attempted to gnaw my right arm off. The crackling silver dragon tattoo flexed on my left arm. Hissing and snapping at the demented lizard. Trouble formed a bubble around the reptile. Lifting it above the waterline. Holding it there. I swam to the shore. Then collapsed on the sandy buff. Doc glared at everyone.

Elias pulled out his pipe, “Like a future dino could take out that Yankee!”

Every part of my body hurt. Like I hadn’t used it in years.

Lorain shot me a glance that made me wonder.

I asked point-blank, “How long was I gone?”

Little John flopped onto my midsection.

He titled his head at me. His ears pulled back, <<Long time. Many were giving up hope of seeing you walk in the sun again! >>

            My vision flashed white. My head pounded.

            Hungry eyes, crimson, and gold, poured into that place I dared not look. Hands covered in ash. Trying to pull me under.

            Sentinel growled, <<Still healing. Not an easy thing. Finding one’s body after the soul…>>

            Robin peered down at me, “I get that but we shouldn’t coddle. At least, not us.” Marion landed on his shoulder. Her crow’s beak was marked with new lines of power I hadn’t noticed before. She pecked at her husband’s red cap, <<Behave. We were all worried. Only Bardax truly hung on.>>

            Lorain said, “This is more than following that Path of Ancients. It's obvious Cornfed has to get her wind back.” She stressed the word. She rolled me onto my stomach. Just a simple examination at first. Her power flowed over me. Her eyes raking over every inch of me. Fearing I’d fade into the ether. My aches and pains receded. That wasn’t the source of my worry. My return had marked another turning point. Sentinel’s wolfish head materialized and he nudged me, <<You will need to recover here. Your task within your own time is not yet complete.>>

            My eyes locked onto Doc, “Thoth.”

            Rage burned and Lorain stamped down on it.

            “The Everlasting Corpse.”

            Lorain wasn’t talking about Renenutet.

            One steeped in two worlds.

            Hilary Brookes. A being equivalent to my brother in Unity’s Pantheon.

            Thoth, my equivalent.  The Mirror everyone had denied.

I had been healing White all those years.

            The Weave had been clever. Hiding the nature of Prophecy.

            Yes, my brother and I were the Twin Rulers of the Sky.

My brother was the anchor. Yet Unity had its last vestiges in play. It tried to mimic what it hated most. So it had its own version of a Weave. Placing itself above all. Yes, Matarn’s old spear had marred its flesh. I had poured everything into it. My life, my soul, my very existence. It was wounded horribly. Drawn to a time beyond time. But as long as the last of its Slumbering Nightmare walked the lands of the living, it could return through them. I stood.

“Within the Path of Ancients is a throne of bones. We must stop Hilary and Thoth from reaching it. Activating it. Then the Three will close the loop. The Throne Matrix will seal the corridor off from everyone until the 42nd century.”

            The Amache, as a whole, were made for the final Seal. Those who had rejected creation. Living in the In-Between.

Sir Avalon’s words came to me, “I have lived on borrowed time. Yet found my way to a new life.” Lorain pulled a circlet from her pack. Its silver surface bringing back a flood of memories. As she placed it on my head I leaned against her for a moment. “The Icath flow from the distant future to the past, meeting themselves at the moment of their birth.” She cupped my face. Paling at my words.

I continued, “At the time of meeting they exist in life and death. That is their sacrifice.”

A  guttural voice purred, “You understand now. I will walk with you the rest of the way.”

P’tah’s feline form circled. The tip of his tail curling around my wrist. The Crystal Dragon flexed. Its coils brilliant within the deep purple of P’tah’s jeweled forehead. He continued, “Your mind is ready. The body will follow. Come.”

The silver spear formed in my hands. Its light cascading across the valley of this distant world. The Vigil was only beginning. Trouble remarked, <<Now there’s the Eliza I remember!>> He waddled over to me and his black wings unfurled.

Gulliver snorted but his eyes cleared, <<Good to have you back.>>

Marion landed on my head. Her crow’s beak gleaming silver for a brief moment.

<<A final meeting. >>


Interlude: The Third Eye Opens: Here

Issue 1: Here