I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again:
Damn the rain.
It’s back once again, with extra bells and whistles, i.e. thunder and lightning. It’s a great night for sitting under a tree, I can tell you that.
As the droplets slide down my mask, falling onto the roof of the Olympiac State Building on which I stand, my mind wanders back…

BlackBlood. Clayskin. The Portal. HELL. Legion. Joshua. Clark Gable. The army base. The final showdown (as I like to call that gigantically epic battle). And discovering the mastermind behind all that ‘Portal’ business was my own Dad; that man who abandoned me at 10-years-old with Father Thomas; that man who created The Portal to try and get my dead mother, his dead wife, back from the dead.
And who, in the end, died because of it.

Damn, I hate thinking about this stuff. It’s a real bummer, y’know?

Suddenly, my thoughts are interrupted by a large streak of lightning, striking somewhere in the distance.

As I look, a large orb of unearthly light begins growing.

Oh, frakk…