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As you've hopefully gathered by now, things are happening again. They've been happening again for a while now, since a certain handsome somebody decided to get off his toned, muscular ass and ascend to godhood for the sake of getting the narrative and all his friends' lives back on track (you're welcome, by the way), but they're especially happening again here and now.

When last you left us, our Contest had just begun. Rose and I were beginning the lengthy and convoluted process of engineering our own races to populate Deltritus, meticulously tweaking their genetic profiles and respective collective unconscious-es in an effort to create a species fit to conquer the next session of the Game. Well, I was. Rose dipped pretty early on in that visual montage to spend some quality time trading barbs and bumping uglies with the supposedly impartial proctor of said Contest, next to the vacant meat-sack that once housed her consciousness. Irresponsible, sure, but to give credit where due, it was irresponsible in a poignant and symbolically weighty sort of way. Classic Rose shit. Rest assured, however, that since then she's spent at least as much time throwing herself into the work as she has cruising for the occasional caliginous bruising.

It's been a pretty good time, to be honest. Every now and then I can feel her interest waning, but she's done an incredible job cooking up a witty retort of a race to the deep rhetorical questions posed by my equally-if-not-even-more-bombastically-inspired offspring. She's proven herself a worthy rival, and a worthier collaborator. Her patience for this particular stage of our grand designs is starting to fray, but it's just as well; both of us have essentially done all we feel we can do to lay down solid bio-physio-psycho-sociological foundations for our chosen peoples. Rose's growing discomfort with and desire to move on from this process helps to curb an urge of mine that she's correctly identified as a deep-seated need to micromanage things I care about. A few days back we both agreed that it's high time we get this fucking show on the road, so we've put the finishing touches on our scions and are just about ready to drop them kicking and screaming into the wilds of this beautiful, doomed planet.