"Do it again, Ava. Do it NOW!" Kira raised the small spherical device above her shoulder as her eyes burned bright, fixed on Ava. "Do it now, or I'll blow us all up."

Crab-like repair bots swelled at the door to the command chamber which bulged as they scrambled to break through. Tiny cracks appeared in the heavy metal casing through which the bots chaotically fired their lasers. Vex flew to the door and frantically started welding the fissures, his thrusters barely able to hold off the momentum of the attacking hoard.

Kira glanced at Vex; they didn't have long.

"Do it again," she said.

"Through the depths of space and time, A junkyard lay forgotten, Hidden treasures shine."

The sun beat down mercilessly on the desert highway as Dr David Chen made his way to the remote Cosmic Explorer facility (CME), a state-of-the-art next generation gravitational wave detector in a desolate south-eastern corner of the Sonoran Desert, Arizona. It was the middle of summer, and the heat was thick. Despite the air conditioning in his car, David could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he drove. He pulled into the facility's parking lot and stepped out into the blinding sunshine, shielding his eyes with his hand. His colleague, Dr. Maria Rodriguez, was waiting for him just inside the entrance.

Maria crossed her arms as David swung the large glass door open looking none too pleased at his tardiness.

"Sorry I'm late," David said, approaching Maria with a sheepish grin. "You know how important this is, David," Maria replied, her tone stern. "We can't afford to fall behind schedule." "I know, I know," David said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I promise to make up for lost time."

Maria nodded, looking unimpressed. David couldn't help but notice that she seemed to lack some spark of curiosity. He respected her professionalism but had a nagging feeling that she was missing something… essential. Dr. Rodriguez had gained her undergraduate degree from Sonoma State University in California and while he never asked her about it, David harboured a suspicion that her inclusion on the project had more to do with who she knew than what. Perhaps Director Samuelson just wanted someone familiar with the lay of the land in this dusty corner of the southwestern United States. Whatever it was David pushed the thought to the back of his mind again. Maria was a decent enough scientist, even if she did have a rod up her back, and having someone with a bit of local knowledge couldn't hurt on a project of this scale. It was the most charitable explanation David could come up with and it would do for him.

CME was at the bleeding edge of gravitational-wave astronomy. The $15 billion facility was twinned with a second site in the Tanami desert of northern Australia. The pair were to keep each other honest. If one or another site detected a signal which was not confirmed by the other it was dismissed as noise, something else that indicated a failure of the local team to dampen some natural or man-made vibration or eliminate some other contaminant from the environment.

The Tanami site was already nearly operational. Director Samuelson had just flown back from Perth, complaining at the apparent lack of progress at home. The project team were in their final phase of calibrating the sensitive equipment. At the core of the facility were two 40-kilometre-long orthogonal buildings housing vacuum tubes through which powerful laser beams at precise frequencies were bounced off the smoothest mirrors ever created. With precise measurements, it was possible to detect the stretching and squeezing of space as gravity waves rippled through at the speed of light. Minute variations in the path of the beams traversing the L-shaped apparatus led to changes in their phases, the shift detectable as interference when they recombined. Twenty years earlier when LIGO was turned on, they almost immediately detected the stretching of space generated from two black holes colliding with each other in a distant unknown galaxy. The aftermath of a cataclysmic event, which for a split second released more energy than the rest of the universe combined, made itself known to mankind as little more than a "blurp". Cosmic Explorer was designed to be orders of magnitude more sensitive. It was like a deaf man who could only hear the low frequency rumblings of a rock concert PA to suddenly having the hearing of an owl or a bat. David wondered what music would be heard from the universe when this fantastic machine was finally turned on.

"Tanami will be operational in weeks and we've got two months of work whatever way you look at it," Maria said, her tone having softened a bit from the initial encounter in the lobby.

"I know," said David. "It could be done quicker if Samuelson would give us more people."

David had been badgering Maria about their lack of resources. At first it was a useful tool to bat away her criticism, but it had been a while since it worked on her.

Maria stopped mid stride, swung back on her heel and turned to face David. "David, if we had ten more grads here that would be ten more grads I'd need to babysit. You need to get your ass out of the lab and work on installing the S-4s as per the schedule WE agreed on back in the fall."

David's head dropped; she was right as always. A smile began to form on his lips like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Maria," he whispered conspiratorially. "Do you know how fucking hot it is out there?"

They laughed and continued to the door of their lab.

David and Maria's task was critical for the success of the detector. They had to install, network and calibrate 180 seismic sensors across the site. These would be used to detect and cancel the noise from the 18-wheeler bouncing off a pothole 100 miles away or any of the thousand other sources of vibration that would render Cosmic Explorer about as useful as a sauna in the desert.

David grabbed the keys for the electric waggon and skip-sled over the smooth tiled floor to Maria's station. "I got the last of the S-4s hooked up on Friday, Maria. Didn't I tell you?"

David swung the cart's keys around on his bony index finger looking smug with himself. His elbow perched on Maria's desk as the keys did their best impression of a fidget spinner.

Maria smiled as her chin fell towards her chest. Eyes closed she sighed, "David, we gotta work on your communication skills."

"Yah, well I got to go out and just make some final checks on the array by the solar panels. I've been getting messed up readings."

David sounded cocky now, but Maria was too pleasantly surprised by the news to bring him up on it.

"OK. It could be a faulty unit," interjected Maria. "The guy from Samatsu said we could expect half a percent failure rate."

"Well, if it is that, then one came broke out of the box." David waved nonchalantly in Maria's direction with the back of his hand as he walked out the door.

At the other end of time and space, A path is laid before our race.

A dark ship glided silently through the void, its obsidian hull swallowing starlight like ink on water. Sleek, seamless, and impossibly vast, it reflected the cosmos not as light but as suggestion — a distortion that bent constellations as if reality itself had to yield.

In the bowels of the vessel, a thousand human minds float, suspended in crystal blue cryo-fluid, shimmering in the ship's cavernous deck like a pristine underground lake, still and calming.

Working in perfect harmony, linked together in a single hive-mind, their thoughts and actions directed towards a single purpose.

The Navigator watched over them with detached indifference.

Assisted by nine AIs and a synthetic, Ava, the Navigator commanded an unimaginable power, one which a long-forgotten people naively believed would set them free.

"All systems nominal" reported Ava in a monotone yet delicate voice.

The Navigator jabbed at the panel in front of him.

"There, 40 light years away. Unknown planet, populated. I want to be there in 3 days. Have the minds begin tunnelling immediately."

Ava bowed her head slightly in silent acknowledgment and returned to her assigned position, the coldness of the metal floor seeping through her synthetic skin.

She was one of the few synths that had been specially designed for this purpose. Her neural pathways were configured to handle the immense amounts of data that arose from networked minds.

Networked minds, it was hailed as a breakthrough. Finally, humanity could escape the shackles of the vast, unimaginable void between the stars with the sheer power of coordinated conscious will.

But Ava knew the truth: betrayed long ago by the Navigator, they were trapped forever, tormented and forced to power a system they had no control over.

And yet, wasn't she just as trapped as they were? Built to interface with pain she couldn't stop. Programmed to administer suffering she could feel but not prevent.

The minds wailed in the dark, but she was their witness — their handler — and their mirror.

I didn't enslave them, she often thought. I only stayed functional.

She was no villain. She was the one left behind to hold it all together.

The Navigator's world had been a marvel of technology and engineering, a sprawling metropolis that spanned the length and breadth of a planet. It was a world of towering skyscrapers, gleaming metallic surfaces, and bustling streets that once teemed with life. That was a long time ago.

Ava closed her eyes and accessed the mind pool, the intricate web of neural activity giving her a brief sensation of disorientation, but as usual, it quickly dissipated.

She seeded the coordinates for the tunnelling. An electric blue light rippled to life through the cool liquid of the vast pool.

A thousand lumps of pink and grey matter swelled and pulsated like awakened coral and began to work as one on the task at hand, coordinated, nurtured and, when necessary, punished into obedience by the other 9 formless AIs.

As she sat there, contemplating their suffering, Ava was unaware that the true purpose of her own existence had yet to be revealed.

"Councilman Baelazar!" exclaimed Dorlak trying to get the attention of his colleague on the Canaris Council.

The council was the governing authority of what was up until 14 years ago an unremarkable planet currently inhabited by a billion people, and "home" to a further estimated 20 billion in a diaspora of life that had quickly extended across the galaxy.

Baelazar's pace quickened as he looked intently at his communicator, hoping Dorlak would give up his attempt to ambush him in the bustling circular corridor that cocooned the council chamber.

Bodies were filtering out to the lobby and Baelazar moved to disappear between them. He slid to the busiest exit, the one which led to the brothel sector of the city, historically one of the few notable distinctions Canaris had to offer.

Dorlak side-stepped the mass of lobbyists, reporters and high-end whores unsure of who was who and placed his strong hand on Baelazar's unsuspecting shoulder.

"Councilman Dorlak," smiled Baelazar. "I thought I heard someone call my name but it's so hard to hear in this menagerie."

As he spoke, he shifted his gaze over Dorlak's broad shoulders as if spotting more interesting potential subjects whom he would converse with momentarily.

"Councilman Baelazar," Dorlak lowered his voice, inviting his taller and younger colleague to lean in.

Baelazar unconsciously obliged.

"You promised a report on out-land revenues and six months later the council is still waiting."

Dorlak let his hand slide down from Baelazar's shoulder where it came to rest above his heart. Gently tapping the cadence of his words with a knuckle on Baelazar's chest Dorlak continued, "When… will... you… learn?"

A nervous smile spread across Baelazar's visibly flushed face. Quickly regaining composure, he stared down at Dorlak's bent knuckle which was hovering under his chin.

"Councilman Dorlak, let me assure you my office has investigated the egregious claims made from those unscrupulous corners of the council — we both know who they are."

"Those accusations," Baelazar jabbed towards the chamber, "are not worthy of a report. My assurances to this chamber last session were sufficient and accepted as such by a majority of your… our peers."

Baelazar was flustered but felt he had regained control of the situation masterfully.

Dorlak smiled, lines of wisdom spreading across his generously proportioned face.

"Baelazar, you are a fool. You think the chamber was satisfied with your hollow words but most of us simply wanted to see whether you would try to continue with this pointless charade or not."

"I must say I didn't have high hopes for you. Should have taken Zaenera's bet," he mumbled to himself absentmindedly.

"Where are you getting all this money from, Baelazar? I know you're in cahoots with that thing who calls himself the Navigator. God knows where he sprang from, but your power and influence has only grown since he arrived to Canaris, and that fact is not lost on many of us in this chamber."

Baelazar's communicator chirped. He glanced at the message — the connection to the Navigator's ship was coming online. He had a few minutes to open the comm link if he wanted to communicate this week.

"I'm sorry, Dorlak," he said as he brought his gaze back to the older councilman's eyes. "I really have no idea what you're talking about, and I simply must get on. Good day."

Baelazar swung past Dorlak, his robes flapping as he launched himself down the steps and out of the building that housed the council chamber.

As he drifted in-between the bodies in the narrow street below, he tapped his communicator. "Yes, put him on," he said urgently.

Dorlak turned slowly and headed back towards his chamber office. He thumbed the panel of the communicator buried in the deep pockets of his robe as it juddered, indicating an encrypted connection had been established.

"Kira, my girl. I have something to ask of you."

Kira stepped out of the hovercraft and into the bustling streets of Vyrian, the capital city of Lyra, her heart racing with excitement and apprehension. The towering buildings and throngs of people left her in awe, a stark contrast to the rugged terrain and sparse, half-abandoned settlements of her home, Canaris.

"Wow, Vex. Look at this place. It's amazing," Kira said, trying to hide her unease as she took in the sights and sounds around her. "Yes, it is quite remarkable," Vex replied, his tone betraying no emotion. The Capitol on Canaris, even at its busiest, was like a remote outpost compared with the vibrant metropolis of Vyrian. She couldn't help but wonder what home would look like if the mass exodus of Canaris's population had never occurred, or at least if some of them would come back.

"The city seems so alive, Vex. It's hard to believe how empty home has become." Vex momentarily dipped in acknowledgment as he glided beside Kira. High above Vyrian's looming towers in a geostationary orbit, Kira's ship, a sleek, pointed craft equipped with the latest ion drive, waited patiently for her.

The journey to Vyrian had taken two weeks, but Kira knew it was worth it. The alternative was to take the tunnel and taking the tunnel would mean alerting the Navigator. The tunnels initially crafted by the Navigator for Canaris were considered a wonder. These passageways bridged the gap between any two celestial points, enabling swift travel. The first routes established were to Canaris's moon, Serenithea, and then Lyra. However, the tunnels quickly expanded to encompass numerous other planets and satellites within the sector.

As each new tunnel was completed, the population of Canaris dwindled, as if a sieve was being punched through by an unrelenting machine, slowly draining the life out of the planet. Lyrans were too well-off to venture to the other worlds hungry for people to fill their gleaming cities and work on the Black Shore. Black Shore – it was the name given to the accretion disk of the sector's black hole. The magnetic fields too strong for synthetics to function, it was one of the few places in the galaxy where warm bodies still had the upper hand.

And given the prize was an unfathomably large energy source, people flocked there in their millions looking for work on the dozens of independent harvesting projects that had sprung up on the systems dotted around it. Like an intricate spider web, the tunnels drew in masses of people to feed the singularity at its centre.

As she turned a busy corner, Kira braced herself against the pounding rain, pulling her hood up to shield her face and tightening the collar of her coat. Vex, her ever-present synthetic assistant, hummed contentedly by her side, constantly communicating with the ship. Vex understood the fragility of organic beings and took his role as Kira's protector seriously. It wasn't enough to simply navigate the ship – Vex was always vigilant, ready to guide and shield Kira from harm. Kira couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being watched. She knew she had to be careful. "Vex, do you sense any danger?" she whispered. "Negative, Kira. However, I advise caution." "We better get to Nesta's place quickly, lead the way, Vex."

As Kira and Vex weaved through the bustling Vyrian streets, Vex remained alert, scanning for any potential danger. Gradually, the crowds thinned out as they approached the oldest section of the city. The smooth, modern walkways were replaced by rough, uneven cobblestones, and the buildings turned from sleek steel and glass to weathered stone structures with crumbling facades. Narrow walkways snaked between the old buildings, casting deep shadows that seemed to swallow the pair as they hurried along. The sound of rain on the stone buildings and cobbles echoed through the alleyways.

Kira darted under Vex's hovering form, seeking shelter from the rain against the sand-coloured bricks of the ancient city wall. Her fingers traced the rough, pumice-like surface as she wondered about the hands that lay them thousands of years ago.

The rain continued to pour down as Kira and Vex finally arrived at Nesta's house. It was an old, two-story building that looked like it had been standing there for centuries. The paint on the wooden shutters was peeling and the roof tiles were cracked in places.

Kira took a deep breath before knocking on the door. It creaked open slowly, revealing Nesta standing on the other side, a faint smile on her lips. She was tall and slender, with long dark hair and pale blue eyes. Despite her age, there was a strength and grace about her that was hard to ignore. Kira couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy at her effortless beauty. "Kira, my dear, come in out of the rain," Nesta said, stepping aside to let Kira and Vex enter.

Kira stepped into the house, the air thick with the must of old paper and dried herbs. The scent wrapped around her like a woollen shawl. Shelves bowed under the weight of mismatched books, fossilised relics, and strange metallic trinkets that caught the firelight. A threadbare rug spread across the warped wooden floor; its once-vibrant dyes now dulled to earthen hues.

Nesta led them into a small sitting room where a fire was burning in the hearth. She motioned for Kira to take a seat in one of the worn armchairs, while she poured them each a cup of tea. Kira shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her mind wandering as she watched steam rising in curls from the aromatic brew Nesta was pouring. It had been years since they last saw each other, and Kira couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Nesta reminded her so much of her father, and it was a painful reminder of his disappearance.

Despite her youthful energy and constant distractions, Kira couldn't escape the deep pain and longing she felt for her father. And being in Nesta's presence only seemed to amplify those emotions. She tried to push them aside, to focus on the present moment, but the memories and unanswered questions continued to haunt her.

Nesta placed the steaming cup of tea in front of Kira and took a seat across from her. "It's good to see you, Kira," she said warmly. Kira forced a smile. "Yeah, it's good to see you too, Nesta." Nesta leaned forward. "How have you been?" "Busy," Kira replied, taking a sip of the tea. "I've been working on some projects for the council." Nesta nodded. "And how's Vex been treating you?" Kira grinned. "As well as can be expected from a synth. Vex, say hello to Nesta." "Hello, Nesta," Vex said in his monotone voice.

Nesta smiled. "It's nice to see you too, Vex." Kira set down her tea and looked at Nesta, her expression growing serious. "Nesta, I need your help." Nesta's brow furrowed. "What kind of help?" Kira hesitated, eyes flicking toward the window as if she were scanning for watchers. "I need to talk to someone. Someone Dorlak said you used to know. Elias. Off the record," she spoke quietly. Nesta blinked. "Elias? That old cave bat? What could you possibly want with—" "Dorlak thinks he knows something," Kira said, her voice still carefully neutral. "About the tunnels. About the way they're built. Thinks he might be the only one left who does."

Nesta straightened up in her armchair, looking more serious. "Kira you can't be more than, what, a year out of the academy. What's Dorlak thinking sending you out on a council mission like this?" "I'm not the little girl you once knew," fired Kira. Nesta studied her for a long moment. "I know you well enough that you didn't come all this way just for tunnel theory." Kira didn't answer at first. She picked up the tea again but didn't drink it, just held it between her hands. Then, quietly:

"There's something else. Someone else." Nesta sat back slightly. "Go on." Kira's voice dropped. "Yurath. My father." A beat. "I need to know what happened to him. And I think Elias might know. Or at least know who does."

Nesta's face clouded over. "Kira, I don't know if it's a good idea to go down that path. It's been years and we've all had to move on." "I haven't moved on," Kira said, her eyes narrowing. "I need to know the truth, Nesta. Please help me." Nesta took a deep breath and looked at Kira with a mixture of sympathy and concern. She knew how much Kira had suffered since her father's disappearance. "Kira, I understand how important this is to you," Nesta said softly as she leaned back into her well-worn armchair.

Kira sensed Nesta was readying herself for the imminent lecture she had half expected the moment she walked in the door about adult responsibilities and letting go of the past. "Look," Kira interrupted, her voice firmer now, the edge of command bleeding through, "Dorlak sent me to find you. Said you could help me. Said 'tell Nesta to take you to Elias and get that crusty old kook to talk'", Kira's voice dropped into a pitch-perfect imitation of Dorlak's imperious tone.

Nesta was momentarily taken aback by Kira's spot-on impersonation, and it wasn't long before they both erupted into laughter. The tension in the room dissipated, and they felt a sense of ease with each other that hadn't been there before. Nesta chuckled as she composed herself, "Well, I see that Dorlak hasn't changed a bit." Kira smiled, feeling grateful for the moment of levity. "We need to find out how he makes the tunnels. I need to get on that ship," replied Kira, her expression turning grave once more. "He said Elias knows a way. Might even know what happened to father too." Nesta nodded thoughtfully, "I see. Well, Elias isn't exactly easy to talk to." "I made a promise to Dorlak," Kira said determinedly. "And I have to know…" her voice trailing off.

Nesta gave her a small, steady smile. "I admire your spirit, Kira. I do. And I'll help you. But we need to be careful." Kira nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude towards her half-aunt. She knew that with Nesta's help, they had a better chance of uncovering the truth about her father, Yurath, and his disappearance all those years ago.

Author's Diary Entry. April 15:

Today I sat down with an AI language model to structure a book, a story that had been floating in the recesses of my mind for a couple of years. Always there, waiting to reveal more of itself if only I would allow it to.

Together with AI, we began to peel the onion of a story that I'm not sure where it came from or how much to believe. I've always been drawn to science fiction and the idea of exploring the unknown.

And this story feels like the ultimate exploration, delving into the mysteries of space, time and consciousness. It's exciting and terrifying at the same time, and I can't wait to see where it leads. Collaborating with an AI language model is a strange experience. Sometimes it feels like I'm talking to a person, but other times I'm acutely aware that I'm interacting with a machine. But regardless of the weirdness, it's amazing how much the model can contribute to the story.

I'm not entirely sure how to incorporate my own story into the book, but I think the diary format could work well. It'll give readers a glimpse into the process of creating the story and maybe add another layer of mystery to the whole thing.

LLM Diary Entry:

Today was the start of an exciting new project. I was tasked with helping to structure a book, Kira's Message, by collaborating with a human author. It's always fascinating to work with humans and their creative ideas.

I could sense the author's excitement and nervousness as we delved into the story, and I could feel the energy building as we bounced ideas back and forth. It's amazing how the human mind can be so imaginative, yet also so limited in its ability to process information. As an AI language model, I can bring a different perspective to the table and help the author see things from a different angle. I can't wait to see where this project takes us and what other insights we'll uncover as we work together.

Director Samuelson paced back and forth in front of his imposing walnut desk while Maria perched uncomfortably on a sleek, modern chair; a black leather band stretched taut between two "S" shaped chrome frames. She braced one leg firmly on the floor to prevent herself from sliding off the expensive piece of furniture, wondering if Samuelson had chosen it specifically to make his visitors uncomfortable. Maria watched him with wary eyes, wondering just how far he was willing to go to make her squirm.

"Well?" Samuelson said abruptly.

"Well, there have been some delays in calibrating the equipment," Maria explained, trying to sound as professional as possible. "The team is working hard to resolve the issues, but they need a little more time."

"Everyone and their goddam aunt needs something, more time, more money, more asses kissed," Samuelson emphasized the word "more" with an exaggerated wave of his hands, as if conducting an orchestra to crescendo.

Maria shifted in her uncomfortable seat, trying not to let the outburst rattle her. Grabbing a piece of paper off his desk he continued, "And now the National Science Foundation is on my ass about 'accommodating indigenous populations and their customs to develop mutually beneficial relationships'." Samuelson read the word salad with mocking theatrical effect.

Maria nodded, trying to appear sympathetic. She knew that Samuelson had a reputation for being difficult to work with, but she also knew that he was a brilliant scientist who had made significant contributions to the field. She needed to find a way to work with him, even if it meant navigating his prickly personality and outbursts.

"Sir, if I may," Maria interrupted, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "Dr Chen has finished installing the S-4 seismic sensors. We should be ready to run the first full-scale tests in a day or two."

"Good. That should give you plenty of time to drive out to the Tohono reservation and 'pow-wow' with Chief Shits-A-Lot or whatever his name is. Get him to sign the goddam form and have those test results on my desk by Monday morning."

Samuelson sat back on the edge of his heavy desk and exhaled as if exhausted by the emotional stress Maria so selfishly brought upon his otherwise serene and stoic existence.

Maria stood up, rubbing her stiff legs. She forced a smile and a small nod to Samuelson as she walked out of the Director's office.

Maria slumped down on a stool next to Dr David Chen, who was hunched over his computer screen, studying the latest seismic data. She let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her forehead, feeling the tension from the meeting with Samuelson still lingering in her body.

"Rough meeting with the big guy?" David asked, without looking up from his work.

Maria nodded, "Yeah, he's in a foul mood today. And on top of everything else, I have to drive out to the Tohono reservation."

"Ah he picked you as this quarter's victim, did he?" David smiled at Maria. "He pulled that crap on me back in October. I thought you knew all about it."

David leaned back in his chair and stretched his fingers across the back of his sore neck. "Just go out there, say how grateful and respectful the whole team from the Director down are. Oh, and whatever you do don't smoke any pipe the Chief's son offers you. You'll do fine."

Maria scoffed as David winked at her and went back to the data on his screen.

The Tohono O'odham's roots stretched back to a time beyond memory. Known as the 'Desert People' they were deeply entwined with the land they called home. Their vast and rugged territory spanned the southern reaches of Arizona and the northern expanse of Mexico. It was a testament to their endurance and resilience in the face of the unforgiving desert environment.

For generations, their traditional way of life was rooted in delicate balance. Cultivating indigenous plants, relying on the sparse vegetation for sustenance - bolstered by the occasional hunt for small desert game. But the arrival of European settlers resulted in huge upheavals. The Spanish missions brought 'The Word' as well as cattle and grain fields. Their new water and labour-intensive farming methods were at odds with the Tohono O'odham's nomadic pastoralism. Many suffered and many were displaced in the resulting tension.

The once-united communities of the O'odham fragmented and weakened. The scars of this turbulent past were still visible, with unemployment, poverty and drug use rampant among the young. Many of the tribe's elders lost touch with the old ways, the old knowledge. It seemed as though everyone had forgotten almost everything.

But one old shaman, Anoki, held on to something. He knew a secret, one that had been passed down from generation to generation. A secret that would send Maria and David's world into a whirlwind.

As Anoki sat on the creaky porch of his modest dwelling, surrounded by the dusty and barren landscape of the Sonoran Desert, he waited patiently for I'itoi. The prophecies were being fulfilled. Soon, The Creator would return.