The Deep Shrine

[Gypsie Skripto]

They were gone. Everyone was gone. All there remained was mid-management indie Zoners, running a skeleton crew in Baffin's four TAZ stations. Gypsie walked through the corridors of Brunswick Shrine, entered the Deep Shrine, and then went on to The Vault.

The room was gleaming, every inch of the walls, floor and roof covered in a thin layer of gold. In a corner hang a hammock, and in the center, two armchairs. They were the ones that belonged to The Kiva, in Pueblo Bonito. The ones on which Mal and him had been sitting while the (then) young reporter interviewed the first Polyfather. He had brought them with him after Malaclypse had passed. An old memento of their happiest moments together. They still smelled like weed.

Between the armchairs a small cabinet rested on the floor. On top of it, a yellow phone. Gyp sat on the armchair where he long ago had, reminiscing of a past long gone, when the phone rang. Well that's a first... He said. He stared at the apparatus until it rang five times, and then he picked it up. Understood. Give him an appointment at the Deep Shrine.

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