Dear Johnson,

I've labored long and hard to deliver what has been asked of me. Still, I receive no response. The target has vanished off my radar. What more can be done? I need assistance if I am to continue the quest. For what is this quest if the one for whom I have returned cannot be found. How much more time could I possibly have left?"

Sincerely
Galenical Gabriel

Torrents of rain were falling. Wearing the remnants of a long, black raincoat he purchased in 1982, Gabriel carried his letter to the general store. He protected it well against the elements, although his face and chest took a beating from the larger than normal raindrops that struck against him.

Fear is the determinant. You shall not know the true meaning of the quest unless you can conquer its impairment.

Gabriel shrugged at the suggestion that entered his mind. He had long ago given up on fear and considered the point moot. This was a quest of the spirit, to reunite that which had been lost so long ago in another world. The vision of that world was too strong to ignore. It demanded that he recover that which had been lost.

She hides from you because she knows that her vanishing is the subject of your only real fear in this world.

Ah, to light a candle in the rain. This letter was just that. Silence in the cacophony of the streets. Sense amidst the chaos of so many empty souls whose faces were contorted in thoughts of simplistic things:

"It's better to burn out than to fade away."
Thanks Neil, I needed that.

Gabriel stood in the rain and removed his tattered rain suit. He watched as people raced from their cars into buildings with a newspaper held over their head or their daughter's Elmo umbrella raised above them in a false veil of protection. He wasn't sure it mattered any longer. Millions of people in the world and he was dedicating years to finding one. She didn't want to be found. It was part of the secret of the quest.

"Maybe I'll buy a magazine. I need something to read in the shelter tonight."

Gunshots were ringing out across the plaza, just outside of Gabriel's parochial point of view. He paid them no heed. Another life was being taken. He could feel the burst of pain and the departure of the victim. They were now free. Gabriel remained a prisoner. A prisoner of his desires.

Desire will unwrap you. She can hold no dominion if you resist the desires.

"Am I to surrender without a final charge? To disarm myself because the battle has deserted me?"

Gabriel slipped into a liquor store and purchased a bottle of tequila. The label was printed entirely in Latin, aside from the word "Tequila." He did not find that odd. It was merely a symptom of his fate. He stood in the alleyway behind the store and immediately poured a quarter of the bottle down his throat. After wiping his lips, he stepped back out of the alley and addressed the crowd.

"Haven't any of you ever lost someone you truly cared about without knowing why? Explain it to me. Make me understand. None of this makes any sense."

You dial in your own assasination on the cell phone of a million dead souls.

Thus it would be. The man with the gun smiled as he crossed the street. He approached Gabriel and raised his revolver so the barrel pointed directly into his swollen face.

"Hey, weirdo, what year is it?

"I don't think it matters."

"Damn straight. Not anymore."

The gun fired. The letter flew into the air. Gabriel's suspenders seperated themselves from his bare chest. His pants ignited and he prepared to rise again. It was the only way to continue the quest. Play again. Maybe this time he would get home field advantage.

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