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In spite of you, the knowledge slips into its natural niche in your brain -- obvious, inevitable.

This is a reality television show. The plot is too complex -- the writers must be high on their own ad revenue cash.

Nice try. He doesn't realise that you know better than he does the fate of his body double.

No, no, no. This isn't right. This can't be right.

A suburb of Almina al-Azraq. Green bushes, knee-high, stretch across a plateau. Boys with skirts woven into nets pluck small white flowers from between the leaves, pinching just beneath each bud.

As much as 75% of the world's commercial jasmine is produced in this vast field. Children as young as five work alongside their parents, wiping pollen and pesticides from their cheeks.

Mud-soaked canine groin, leg lifted, as it pisses all over a bed of springy plants. You blink -- the piss hits your face, sours your taste, throwing you out from your pleasant dream among the budding white flowers.

In the distant beyond, a massive luminescent body turns in silence amid a sad black cosmos.

The most widely accepted tally: One hundred and fifty million deaths, approx. 10% of the global population.

Frail attempts to find importance in what is an inherently meaningless and chaotic existence.

Meanwhile, your assignment lies neglected by the side of the road.

You have it in you. You are the ultra-light runner, magister of miles, a being made to set the pace for everyone else.

And seal the doors behind you.

Shiny.... So shiny...

SUCH REACTIONARY COMMODITY FETISHISM IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH!

1,265 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 26 of 26