...apparently I -can- wire into the 'internet' from Limbo... Interesting. My week was up, so I returned from Death's library with a newly agitated mind. Limbo, New Edeni, my destination. I didn't relish returning, fathers know... but if I was to be of use to anyone, I couldn't remain on Earth longer than necessary. One week... I have one week where I can do nothing. Where I must sit and stagnate, staring out at my failed and unfinished creations. ...But I can still think. From what I can glean from the books (many as there were, they had little relevant knowledge), these are new. These... spore-undead. Somehow they are plantlike, yet show all the characteristics of the simple zombie... with a few alterations. Even the most recent victims of the curse show the same rotted faces and broken, jagged teeth. Perhaps upon disease contraction the jaw locks, grinding together? Teeth used as attempts at getting through metal doors and otherwise? It is more likely the latter. The mature spore-zombie (Or even the young ones, as I was witness to) has the unique ability to explode, sending the disease airborne and endangering respiration. Depending upon the amount breathed, the victim may take variously days or minutes to become totally affected, then dying and being resurrected an hour later. In addition to all this, the teeth themselves serve as a spreader, forcefully injecting the disease into flesh. They also learn quickly. I expect to see some using firearms when I return, at the rate of their intelligence. ...It makes me seethe, to know I have wasted my time here... I ruined lives to get here, killing many and mentally torturing still others... one in particular, then in turn his son, who I proceeded to... no, I've gone over it too many times. I can't change it, though I would in a heartbeat now. ...and now a world that WAS perfect is overrun. Earth is Eden... father never hid it from us, we only forgot what it was and destroyed it, recreating Eden in our own image. Sex, drugs, democracy... and from what I can gather, it still goes on in the unofficially-named 'City', which is more a walled country than anything else. All the manipulation and deceit, the slaughter and the anger, the irritation and the ecstacy... and now I have power, but no friends, no allies, and no family that thinks well of me... Save perhaps Fantasia, who is just as I was... ...will she come to the same conclusion, when it is already too late and she has left everyone in the dust, as I have? And VooDoo... Out of all my lovers, he was the only one who could stand me for so long, other than Shael... and I left him as well, because my 'tastes had changed' and I would be the creator of a new race, supposedly greater than any other. ...and they turned out to be mewling kittens, afraid of each other because the suicide of one could kill them all. The creator has made mewling kittens, while the Grim Reaper seeks to battle an entire planet's worth of work from magical necromancy and plant-magics. ...Granted, his power is immense, and he has the drive... but I doubt he will succeed. Zombies themselves are difficult enough to stamp out, but these are sincerely sadistically irritating, like swatting at a planet of gnats with a baseball bat. ...And I sit here and stagnate, while my joints hum with frustration and pent-up ether that I worked so hard to gain from the sorrow of others, and my mindless MONKEYS mill below me, carrying out their fragile, speechless little lives... I am blind, aren't I? I have the men, and I have the equipment, saved from too many years of packratting and shopkeeping... damnit, I am an IMBECILE for not seeing it sooner! I have WORK to do now, and I've spent too much time brooding! Death will need help. They will all need help, and I must atone for my actions. I have apologised, and now I must atone. Anubis will have a vanguard, and the necromancer behind this will be obliterated. I have a hunch who it is.