Ewan here, scribbling from the shadows of a world not unlike the one I’m weaving in The ReAwakening. I owe you an apology for the hush that’s fallen over these pages. The demands of the so-called “real world” have been a relentless beast, clawing at my time and tethering me to tasks far less thrilling than the dystopian dance of AI and human defiance I’d rather be crafting.
But don’t think for a moment that The ReAwakening has slipped into the void. Oh no, it’s simmering in the back of my mind, much like the quiet menace of Hermes itself—plotting, twisting, growing sharper with every stolen moment I snatch to ponder it. The McDonalds—Bryan, Eliza, Lillibeth, Lane—and their battle against a world rewired by cold code are clawing at my thoughts, demanding their story be told. Sometimes, a pause lets the tale breathe, lets the stakes sink deeper into the bones of the narrative.
I’m carving out space to return to this brave new world, to plunge back into the fray where paranoia is just preparation and every choice could unravel reality. The Depopulation’s shadows are long, and I’m eager to trace them further, to see where Hamish’s wisdom and Xander’s grit lead us next.
Your patience is a gift, your hunger for this story a spark that keeps my pen sharp. Stay vigilant, my friends—the storm’s still brewing, and I’ll be back with the next chapter afore long.
Yours in the fight,
Ewan MacAllister
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