The real Agent Brantley is an older middle aged man now, white streaks in hair, glasses, one eye patch, black, on his left side usually with a wooden sherlock pipe in mouth. He wears a brown overcoat and tries to act inconspicuous in outland areas - small, rural and cold northern villages which have sprung up outside the colonial cities. People don't get out much here on account of the poor weather. He needs it that way, Mr. Brantley is wanted for crimes which could land him an eternal banning from T.U.S. fractal programs. There's a reason he's employed so many skinwalkers, duplicates and proxies, essentially making himself unreal. It was he who pressed play on the Zede Lenisker inversion of 2010. Some Asmodeus Crime Circuit Z-Lister youth run by him in the alley - "Silly punks" he thinks. "Was one of those kids wearing a clown mask?"
A replicant Juggernaut has fallen into the mist of Lilithian Agents along with several other clones of his fire-pixie avatar, Mr. Wilson and others - they're out vengeance for the Reality Hacker's PowerGlove war, they think Zede Lenisker is responsible for the dissolution of the Northwestern Airship Co. and installment of the OverUnity Transitlines Alliance. They are torn, Thaumiel circuit, between building the Neo-Malkuth Station and stealing the OSD cymatic data being trafficked. Half-conscious double agent vessels of Black Phi lodge officers being remote interfaced into the Parfaxitas lounge's network.
105 approaches 9cubed in regards to pooling together their underworld resources and contacts to launch a large-scale magickal waveform-based assault against the Saturnine protocols of the Malkuthian-ICEwall thus enabling the launch of the A.M. off Ascension Island. 9cubed agrees, it's time to fuck shit up.
"And dot will take us out." the Sloppy Trickster quotes scripture from the Book of the Unquiet mind.
The data they seek would allow for tuning of the hate Syrup to Bohm's Implicate Order, thus displacing the M-Data cluster of the current Bi-fabricated Singularity into the backup "A-Seed." A dangerous transition of matter, almost alchemical but more precise. Frequency Shadow Data mirrors all current measurements and is applied to a spherical fractal compression model. All worlds exist in the "A-Seed."
Dr. C. knows now, he is becoming the bug. Microscaled consciousness drifting on endlessly large scrapyard planes. It's probably a result of an endotoxic, temporal displacing insect infection he landed himself when a Deep-VI etheric space cruiser crashed on a strange icey Asteroid near Pluto. He thought he managed to purge himself of these buggers several years back during his last bout with them, but sometimes you just can't tell with these sort of delicate things.
Agent Brantley arrives at his house, on his doorstep is a small yellow box sealed neatly. He takes it inside as he opens it the holographic fractal replay of information shows a crashed D-VI vessel leaving OverUnity Transitlines.
Lenisker and his assistant, Jimmy - the new head of Rodent industries after Dr. C. was lost in the abyss for another 7 years - are but alien pod-vessels birthed to fruition now. Strong sickly mutant warlords of a dingy teched out wasteland. A dream come true? X controlling the Strange Ghost Hand interfaces. Only he knows, he built the landscape.