THE SEAL OF SAME

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A yawning desert covers and oppresses a distant daemon-sphere pregnant with the stuff of a thousand Earths. Clouds of the same hue and attitude as the infinite sands gradually dominate the sky, possessed of a malign intelligence. A trans-generational caravan cuts an unforgiving line through the dunes in a fruitless mission to close its great mad circle, forever missing by just miles. It is a roving, innumerable harem in liege to an unsexed tyrant who sings them this song, reproduced here by Resonant Hole...

c19-b2

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