Episodes

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 I know better. The pay is bullshit no matter who you work for because kids are dispensable.

Maybe the Good Book is a start. Don't believe in it. Hell, you can't believe in it if you know what I know and watched tragedy just change clothes in response to the timeline...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 give them that. At least as much as I can.

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... Tiana can't tell the adults what she sees. She thinks it's better that way. Yet every night, she speaks to the Spider Lady about time...even in a dead world, and listens to things bigger than the multiverse itself.

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.

Annabelle 'Anna' Verdent is The Blonde Bombshell of The Downs. Vicious. Calculating. Beautiful. She rules The Downs with an iron fist and pale pink lips. Yet Anna's hunger is what frightens most.

As a dog, you get to watch the private moments of people, because they don't think of you as an equal. Your four legs and public bowel movements somehow negate your intelligence and penchant for observation. Doesn't matter if ya have wings and you can talk. Still a dog, but I let folks think that. I just watch. I have to. Rich has the emotional intelligence equal to a load of sharp rocks, but when you look past his selfishness, you see he tries to do the right thing. He fails, but he tries. But ...

What was this supposed conflict of interest? Rich saw a fellow colleague getting excited about my work...about me. The 'Me' that had personality, goals, dreams and drive. The 'Me' that once allured him. Fionne Lynch, PHD. Neurophysist specializing in Synth and Meta cerebral physiology and psychic phenomena. The Ice Queen of the PEN R&D. The only human in the department. The only human in the department. I never noticed whomever he muttered about because of the breakthrough that teetered on the h...

Strong resolve. An unbreakable spirit. Integrity. Compassion. That's what makes a good man, my father said. He was a good one to the very end. Not me, though. I’m a 'Has Been'. A washed up cop with enough blood on my hands to fill a lake and drown in it.

The division kept it under wraps. I wasn’t dangerous since I could still feel pain. My opponents would just have to be better. The money was good and the women paid top dollar to see a handsome face fight in front of them. Transferred to a new division, one for underground metas; there I got some fame. Baby Face Rich, they called me.

My name is Yao and I am a Groomer. Pardon my manners; my name is Yao Chen, let’s keep it at that, and I am a Groomer of possibilities. You see, I know the world has changed. It’s become a cruel, unforgiving place, more so than the past.

Beneath A Domed Sky / Crescent City Confidential is a labor of love for me. Everything you've heard is in the process of being written in prose and comic form. I opened up a Patreon nearly 3 years ago and these people allowed me to put my money where my mouth was and do what I love. I thank them for allowing me to bring this to you and I thank you for still being here. Alejandro Stepenberg, Carol Monahan, David Tucker, Elizabeth Doherty, Evan Barnett, G. D. Annin, Kim, Leila Vandiver, Melissa Fo...

Quarantine Day 14. A mysterious prophecy.

Quarantine Day 13. Who are you?

Quarantine Day 12. What do you mean I don't have to trade? Who is looking for me?

Clean water? Grass? Fruit trees...and peace? How?

Quarantine: Day 10. We are all hungry. Some more than others.

Quarantine Day 9. The walk up the coast to the nearest outpost is a cold and lonely one.

Quarantine Day 8. The Alpha Primes exist. We don't want to, but we do. Power warps life. Eternal yet dead.