The sky above the Time Fields was a lie. A deceit. No, it was worse than that, it was an affront. Little more than a dead space that crackled with silent thunder and dark lightning. Underneath this foul canopy stretched a landscape of ghost worlds. And in them, were creatures and spirits that were not even good enough for the Pit.
He wanted to tear it all down and destroy it. Let it all be levelled and burned. Chasen had grown sick. He had succumbed to a terminal disease called anger. It had spread through his entire body like a primitive cancer. And from his heart, that mighty organ, spite and violence was pumped.
Chasen was one of the Black Museum’s new custodians. Formerly an angel of the Host. Now, in his mind, a jailer and a warder at the most unusual prison ever built. Once he was
