DAY TWENTYTHREE 19:32PM

Love is a Battlefield

Simon was startled awake by the sound of his cell phone. He fumbled for it in the pocket of his jacket, the room spinning as he shifted from a deep sleep into waking. Just as he snapped the phone open he slipped off the edge of the couch. 

"Ouch. I mean, hello?"

"Simon, what's up?" 

"Hey Alison, how's it going?"

Simon pushed himself back onto the couch. Ghosts of the dream were still swirling around in his mind's eye. Alison's voice sounded far away. A huge cathedral, bizarre patterns in stained glass, a choir singing then screaming... 

"... so I, well, I thought you might like to come," she said.

"Sorry, where again?" 

"Were you sleeping?" she asked, teasingly. "It's not even 8 yet."

"Yeah... That is pretty pathetic, isn't it?" 

Alison's voice went gentle. "Your current case is a tough one..." She always understood. She was one of the few people who even had a hint of the kind of work he did; she never pushed and always supported. Right now though, he couldn't handle it. Couldn't let himself be comforted. It stung.

"Yeah, listen Al. I really do need to catch up on some sleep." 

Something about the sounds and images echoing from the dream. Something about the case maybe. His superiors had been understanding too, after the raid at the motel. They didn't expect miracles from him, especially when it was clear Fujimoria and her collaborators were extremely talented. But their understanding had made him bristle too.

He needed things to be sharp. He needed to feel forged. He was standing on the edge of something. He needed to be ready to jump. 

"Sure Simon, that's cool."

"Listen Al, I'm sorry, it's just-" 

"No worries. Maybe next weekend..."

DAY TWENTYTHREE 17:44PM

The Forgotten

Scorpio was sharpening some knives as he sat at the table, a blade against a whetstone. He could sense that there was going to be a whole world of trouble. 

He was trying to figure something out, but he couldn't. He really didn't know what was going on and why he was doing what he was doing now.

All he knew was that a war was coming. A hard war. A long war. A war to end all wars. 

"So what's the plan?" he asked of Suki, who was sipping a coffee.

"First we find out what happened to Mayganne," she said. 

"Mayganne?" Scorpio said. He knew that he should know that name. He couldn't place her though; it was like waking up from a dream and trying to remember the dream itself.

Suki's face went blank, and Scorpio didn't like that one bit. 

"Nerts," she whispered.

Father Donnelly stepped from the washroom, drying his hands on a towel. "What's going on?" 

Suki turned to the priest and said, "Father, this may seem like a weird question..."

"After what we've been through, weird is just a norm now," he said with a slight chuckle. 

"Do you know a girl named Mayganne?" Suki asked. She stood up from the table and walked towards the window.

"Mayganne?" Donnelly replied. He paused for a few moments trying to recall the name. "I'm not too sure."

DAY TWENTYTHREE 12:14PM

Ascension Status

It was cold and wet and he sat on the ground. 

Max sat naked, fingers clenched and resting on his knees. He was surrounded by 13 empty coffee mugs, with 13 candles burning inside them. Sitting on 13 packs of cigarettes.

Music filtered in from the car speakers on the roadside. He wasn't cold but he wasn't sure exactly what he felt like. His eyes closed. He hummed along with the music. 

A breeze began to swirl around him, and he let out a breath of smoke. It danced with the swirl.

"Hey mister are you... Holy shit," someone called from the highway.