Twilight Mirage 53: Our Flaws in a Vacuum, or...

It is one day after the Second Miracle and the arrival of Our Profit, the so-called final hegemon of the New Earth Hegemony. Lit by the massive, false star projected by the Restitution of All Things, Our Profit's flagship, the Twilight Mirage hangs, shocked and quiet. But not ...

The deserts of Altar are dotted with tombs, and each takes a shape all its own. Some are cathedrals, others monuments. One, a hanging garden. But in the base of a crater atop a volcanic peak, there is a Vault. And inside, is Anticipation... or what is left of Her.

After ...

To make the new world, to free tomorrow from the clutches of not done, we must bury the old world, shove ourselves inside the bone white sand, and there meet ourselves and everyone we have known. A wizard in her tower, oh let down your hair. A wild one, his one foot out the do ...

This is our endeavor. To blade! To tongue! To plow! To grind our name into the bones of tomorrow, until the horizon is lucid smooth as liquid mirror, sharp as cut glass, clear as cool water rising, Irrigating in our throats the dry river bed of ambition. A witch in the gut of ...

Across the night, with the dawn, this version of her, our gilled mage. Suvirin Kedberiket, amphibious and unalone. In the ice cave abattoir, our survivors, the otter and the otherworldly. The fresh hells of a secret past. And then, the trail, far beyond the broad road, taking ...

And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, and the dry stone no sound of water. When the dead tree bears the fruit of empire, it will all be this. You can't shake it. You can't shake me. Or the burning sky, or the blood, or the ink, or the ash. But there is a p ...