Category: Heath Ison

This destination was added to the plan at the last minute. Initially the members of Primordial One were to seek refuge at an abandoned theater on the west end of the city. But the heat had thickened in that area so the only option was an abandoned greenhouse on the outskirts of town.

The black van hosting Primordial One pulls up to the greenhouse. Sensus is the first to get out, duffel bag around his shoulder. He takes a look at their refuge.

“The plants here… they still grow more beautifully than ever,” says

Sensus. “Every color radiates all the truth we need…”

Within the polygraphical confinements of virtual unrest, pastel washed cognitive
beams attempt to penetrate the threshold of ennui. Virtual intoxication gestates for
an unforeseen amount of time. Constantly shifting, a rotating blur barrel
disorienting the cortex into a convoluted mirage of fragmented personas.