Goda.

Lion’s Gate recalls a mysterious old woman, surrounded by chimes and the aroma of flowers, who walked the world on Lion’s Gate to collect those who would follow.

“You don’t go to the Processing Center? They will find you and you will end up being parts for Synths or the black market. If you hit Meta early, you’re either in the lab or on the slab. That’s all we got as kids. Some dummies think going to space is their ticket out, but […]

...but the people, the robots...the people who may, or may not be robots, need some place to sit, to rest, to pray.

I will not save them, though I could.

Tiana Steibenz. Precocious. A little girl with her Father's wild red hair, her mother's ice blue eyes and a quiet gift that no one knows. She sees the threads of life. Her best friend is a dead little boy...

I take my time, light the cigar and blow creamy rings above me. Mild mannered The Grant, Marketing God, Media Darling...human. Naked and scarred like all men of power. The night creeps behind its veil, the dome shifting from crimson and gold to bruised greens and violets. The cigar and finish and I must cleanse.

The rats, the spiders, the creeping evil things that lurk beneath our feet told you everything you needed to know. The rest on your frail, pale body, whispering their secrets, withholding their urges to taste the milky essence of your flesh.

He is Malcom. Retired mercenary. Metahuman. Preacher. She is The Rat Queen. Fragile. Immortal. Deadly. This is their story of hope and lack thereof.

Its beady little eyes looked at me. Waited for me...as if to ask: 'What are you going to do? I have no place to go. Are you going to bring me back inside?'.

Drive a stick shift. Cook the perfect steak. Wear boots. Plant a garden. Actively fall in love with someone who is kind and noble.