The ancient man looked out the window of a sterile white hospital room. It was raining.
The sound of the iron lung pumped a rythmic sound that was quiet soothing...he knew that as long as that machine worked, Ameristar would have a chance at life again...one day...
She had been like a daughter to him ever since he had found her... She had been one among many children that he had sired among the different continuums. And she proved to be one of the best...one of the most dedicated to the cause.
He frowned...The cause...bah... The cause seemed hopeless...the Hoods and the Futurists had ears and eyes allmost everywhere. But with the help of the Book he was sure to find at least some hope to defeat these evil men and women who would be world leaders.
And he knew that his chosen champions were the only hope he had. He sat down on the floor to meditate...he was sure he could find some peace in Dreamtime until he was needed.
And in the bed the comatose form of Ameristar slept her dark dreamless sleep...
