"Remote dwelling, not unlike a crypt, hugged the addled inside them - benumbing the nerves. Disassociated parties given equal distribution of reformatory punishments, but those of criminal eminence. The poised mongrel basks in a slit of morning glory, a single line for sunbathing, barely absorbing sunshine's only vitamin. In the deep of this bastille, a lone stellar corona does not have a world of color - the mind hindered to trace authenticity of its possessor.
Locked inside a ward of calamity, there dwelled no humane human. No kings or bureaucracy, both held in confinement, subjects to the third degree. Their previous harvest barren, only bricks of the heinous nutraloaf and isoflavones fill the strained intestines - salivating for bloodied protein to collaborate with fresh leafy greens. Without wine and song, how could they exist in a world without merriment?
From afar, the hound hears the call of the ptarmigan, jealous of its freedom. His counterpart, only able to hear his own fluid recycling throughout the pipes, mentally penning another journal..."
Eddy, Tony, and Smith return in this sequel to finish off against the 'Big Four'. With their previous empires stripped of all resources, their estranged uncle returns back to the States briefly to aid them.
"Tribute" lays down all the chips for the team, and their newest member. Unable to return to New York to deal with Laurent they must first battle across the West Coast to regain any foothold for future events.
Unfortunate events take hold over Tony, resulting in both a rescue and suicide mission in Los Angeles. Eddy is caught in the crossfire now deciding if he should submit to his psychological demons or put the past to rest. Smith's stoicism is put to a final test, trying to keep it together while training the latest arrival.
Letters are drafted to extinguished flames and old memories. Hope is but a breath away, and it only requires those three words.
Will the team finally know peace in retirement?
Or will they have to wait until they know what it means, 'until the science is perfected'?
