Chapter 15: The Dorian Collective

Lifespark

The room smelled like cinnamon. Mario followed with twitchy fingers. It was clear to Endo that he was not just a driver, but something else entirely. He wore his cap too low with strange suspenders under the flaps of his sport coat. His protrusion of a gut bent the fabric of his shirt into a half-moon. 

“Where are we?” Endo asked. 

Kranz poured himself a glass of clear alcohol—Endo couldn’t tell what kind—-and flung himself onto the couch opposite the door. A lamp had been illuminated in preparation for his arrival, something that clearly satisfied him as he finally noticed. 

“We are in limbo, my friend,” Kranz answered, “and we will remain here until we discover our algorithm.”