DAY TWENTYSEVEN 4:55AM

The Laughing Track

Two men pushed a cart through the hall, both dressed in white, wearing medical masks underneath plastic visors. 

"You think he ever knew?" the thin man asked the elderly man.

"The question is: do you want to know?" the elder asked. 

The thin man stayed silent for a few moments, pondering that question. They continued to roll the cart through a long cold hallway.

Once they reached the elevator, the elderly man waved the back of his palm toward a green light and the doors hissed open. 

"No," the thin man finally said as they entered the elevator. "I think I would probably remain a fish."

Both men chuckled as they turned the cart around, and Hank's bloody hand slipped from underneath the sheet.

DAY TWENTYSEVEN 3:22AM

The Economy of Tragedy

"We're sorry to keep you up so late, Mr. Sanderson. We're almost done." 

Hank nodded at the man in the suit. The woman sitting beside him continued to type things into the laptop. "It's ok, I don't mind. It will all be worth it."

The woman paused in her typing to look at him. "It will be, we assure you." 

"You can make it go back to the way it was... Before he showed up," Hank said.

The man answered. "We most certainly can. In fact, if things go according to our projected design, we will be able to make some adjustments that you might find... to your liking." 

Hank was tired, and his head was swimming. A lot of the meetings he had been to these last few days were blurry, dreamy. He had answered every question they had asked. Had he told them about his feelings for Alice too?

"And you can make sure he won't show up again?" Hank asked. 

"We have someone working on that right now," Greg Logollos said.

DAY TWENTYSIX 19:47PM

The Pwned

Max awoke from his nap. His eyes flickered open when he heard the buzz of a housefly zipping past his ear. It was an alarm that triggered him. 

It was still too cold for houseflies to be around, and it wasn't hot enough out for it to be here.

"Thanks my friend," Max said. He got up and stretched. 

He looked around the motel room. The evening sky was dull and dark. He caught a reflection of himself in a mirror and he had to chuckle; for some reason he was thinking of Martin Sheen in a movie directed by Coppola. Max did a pseudo character pose, and chuckled.

He strolled into the bathroom and showered. He could feel the energies around him, things were falling into place, like a domino game on a schoolyard. Still there were three things left he had to do before the big show.

DAY TWENTYSIX 14:05PM

Ticking The Seconds

Suki pulled the car into the campground; it was closed for the season but it didn't matter since Scorpio had taken the bolt-cutters to the main gate. 

Donnelly got out of the passenger side of the car and went around back to the trunk as Suki popped it open. He reached in and took out a big black bag.

Suki stepped out of the car and stood up and took a deep breath and then let it out. 

"Where are we going to set this up?" Donnelly asked.

Suki glanced around and pointed to where the picnic tables were piled up like dominoes. "There." 

"It's all clear," Scorpio said as he approached Suki. He had done a survey of the campground. "You sure this is the place?"

Suki turned and smiled at him, a pleasant warm smile. A smile that told him all he needed to know.

OMEGA STATION TWELVE

55-B-2457
ee.dh.99

"Sir, I think you should come see this," an aide said with a hint of urgency. 

Morganfokker looked up from his desk; he was in the final stages of preparing his report. "Yes?"

"You're not going to like what's going on, sir," the aide nervously said. 

Morganfokker stood up, his hand swinging and knocking a snowglobe off the edge of his desk.

Before he could react, the globe hit the floor and shattered into several pieces, water spilling about the floor as well as thousands of tiny specks.

DAY TWENTYFIVE 10:14AM

Miles To Go

Johannesberg stood on the dock, overlooking the lake. Watching the water. He knew there was something he should be doing but for some reason it eluded him. 

Susanna came down from the cottage with two cups of coffee in her hands. "I thought you could use a cup."

"How are the kids?" Jo asked, accepting the offered cup. "Hope they are not bored." 

"Playing dodgeball with Milligan," she replied. She stood beside Jo and overlooked the lake.

"Beautiful, isn't it," Jo stated. He secretly wished he could stay here forever. "I'm glad the warm weather is finally upon us, should make the nights better." 

"You know, I wonder why we are out here so early?" Susanna asked. "Are we on a field trip?"

Jo was about to reply, but was lost in thought. There was something happening and going on and Father Donnelly had left to meet up with someone, and soon after that Hank tore out of here like a bat out of hell. 

"It's all like a dream, isn't it," Susanna said to break the silence. "It will be sad once we leave this place."

Thunder rumbled upon the horizon. 

"We better bring the kids in," Jo said. "There's a storm coming."

DAY TWENTYFOUR 21:00PM

To Everything There Is A Time

Stone turned off the ignition. Three blocks ahead of him, the skyscraper rose up into the night. The low clouds were glowing with the dull-orange of reflected light from the city. It looked the sky was about to combust. 

He could feel the fire inside him. Looking at the tower. The smooth black glass. The logo of the LEGACY Corporation. He was burning inside.

What terrible things were happening inside right now? The terrible things he had read about on the laptop. And then things Max had shown him yesterday. 

He didn’t regret contacting him.  He already knew the world was a bad place – the job had taught him that – but Max had shown him just how bad. Stone wanted to know, though: it’s why he had become a detective. So he could learn the true ways of the world.

They were so much stranger and so much darker than he ever imagined. 

Maybe that’s what started the fire inside him. Or maybe it had been smoldering for years. Too many years of crime scenes, of blood and ashes, of the powerful abusing the weak, of the system brutalizing the wounded.

So it had all come down to an open investigation and a laptop, a mind-bending conspiracy and a man named Max. 

He knew how things really worked now, what sorts of crimes were really being committed. Entire lives and worlds used in nameless agendas. Experiments, violations, nightmares. Secrets that could save the world and make fairy tales come true hoarded and corrupted for greed and terror.

So now he had to do something about it. 

He turned the key. The car started. The flames in him flickered.

The car moved down the street towards the skyscraper. 

Stone glanced at the cell phone in the passenger seat. Riveta’s number was cued up.

His sidearm was beside it. The fire surged. 

He approached the tower.

DAY TWENTYFOUR 17:51PM

Ashes Of Immortality

It had been a long day of tracking and hunting, thousands of leads and yet nothing. Simon was exhausted. He opened up the door to his apartment and the first thing he could smell was cigarette smoke. 

He quickly slipped into the room and closed the door behind him, and took out his revolver.

Silently, like a panther, he walked along the edge of the wall toward the kitchen. His nostrils could pick up the scent of coffee as well. 

He did a quick glance into the kitchen and saw no one, but he could feel the breeze coming through an open window somewhere in his apartment.

On the kitchen table sat a smoldering cigarette and a cup of coffee from the local franchise. Whoever was here had sat down, had a smoke, and raided his fridge.

DAY TWENTYFOUR 10:43AM

Samsara 

Pretty George sighed. "Honestly Suki..." 

Suki took a sip from the tea. "I figured your place would be more cluttered." She looked around at the small apartment. Dust in the corners, stains on the floor. A fly buzzing in the kitchenette. She had sent the reverend and her sidekick out for sandwiches; Pretty looked like he could use a meal.

He sighed again. "You're trying to change the subject." 

Suki looked squarely at him. "It's a reflex I have when I feel I'm about to be disappointed."

Pretty held her gaze. She looked good, she looked healthy. She had always seemed so aloof, cold even, when she was young. Initiated so early. The edge was still there, maybe even sharpened, but it was sheathed in something a little softer now. He had no idea where Suki had been all these years, but it seemed to agree with her. 

"Why are you back?" he asked her.

"Now you're changing the subject." 

"You haven't been in the game for a while now. I can tell. You look too happy."

"I was happy when I was playing too," Suki said, perhaps a little defensively. 

"That feeling you felt, that wasn't happiness and you know it. That rush, that charge. Purpose, yeah. Power, yeah. Strangeness, definitely. Mana maybe. But it wasn't happiness."

"Meeting Max was the best thing that ever happened to me," Suki said. 

"Me too," Pretty said. "And the worst."

They each took a sip of their tea. Pretty listened to the sound of the buzzing. Suki glanced about the dingy room. Things felt heavy. 

"Fine," Pretty said. "I'll get it for you."

DAY TWENTYFOUR 10:03AM

Countdown To Eternity

Suki rapped on the door once again. This time a little louder, a little more impatiently. Father Donnelly had donned a hooded sweater, looking more like a homeless beggar than the regal priest that he was. 

"You sure he's here?" Scorpio asked. He was constantly scanning the alleyway. He didn't like having too many blind spots. "You trust him."

"With my life on many occasions," Suki replied; she banged on the door again. 

"Keep your pants on," a hoarse voice shouted.

"Yeah, he's here," Suki said with a smile as she heard some movement inside. 

The sound of a keyboard, plus several bolts sliding from their safeties, as a door opened up partial.

"Suki?" a gruff looking man asked. Looked like he was just getting out of bed. "Suki! Sweet Jesus it is you!" 

"Sorry to bother you, Pretty, but I need your magick touch," Suki said. She looked over at the others in her party. "We need your help!"

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.