We're all familiar with that Rose Lane military establishment, that Gettysburg of my youth, Fort Stark. Well, this is what happens if you try to go home. The best thing to do is let it be subducted into the pages of history. Let someone else find the Titanic. Because although you will keep these places on cerebral life support, they will eventually drag you down also and all that will comfort you are the sharp rays of light from the banks of the other world, blinding you, forcing you to your knees.
OR you can stand tall against the elements and pray the wind is at your back when the waves breach the bulwarks. The light you see may be another ship burning, or it may be the direction home. Either way you must be bold.
Here's the monster's cave...
The weight of the world is on Ken's shoulders. He looks like a plumber checking out the diameter of the pipe he needs to pick up to put Fort Stark back together. But really he is saying a prayer for those who went before us. By the way, those tiles are pure asbestos.
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