Damn. Science fiction has featured in the
Touge Oni build since L-0, but chapter nine officially equips the Spock ears. This right here is
full dive scientifiction, Gernsback-style, and diamonds, all too predictably, sparkle in the cut.
Nevertheless, due to the risks associated with cold immersion at WorldCon levels, this is recommended for
real heads only. The cognitive expansion effects come on like a tasp, hitting off the bell with relativistic time dilation, near-infinite Schwarzschild loneliness, a 1:1 no cap working Einstein-Rosen bridge, adult entanglement below the Planck length, and
all the spacetime trimmings. I'm not saying you need a Stephenson cert to board, but the unjaunted should definitely enlist an experienced trip buddy.
Despite the obvious flavor-blasted realness of the bite, hard science puritans may object to its shameless flaunting of mere creativity, what with, for example, Ho-no-Unagi-sama solo fielding a whole-ass black hole. To say nothing of the wriggling hordes of Lowly-esque supertemporal eelkin who, like tubiform Valkyries birthed
deus ex anguilla from the trysting of insistence with uncertainty upon a bed of quantum foam, arrive when all seems lost to (wait for it) vertically support a disagreeably floppy stretch of engineered manifold curvature.
While I couldn't honestly deny such wholly imaginary objections, were they actually issued, I wouldn't have it any other way. And that's not to say I shrink from the hard stuff. More than once have I, emerging from long darkness upon some alien shore, turned to see only Poul Anderson's footprints stretching back across the sand. Technical complaints, however, are like Ringworld timeshares and words known only to Gene Wolfe: valueless in plenitude.
But the joyful groin and thunder of a muscle daddy gleaming godlet fresh sprung from Singularity State solitary?
PRICELESS. (Verging, according to those most illuminated, on the OH! EXOTIC!!!)
Within 49 scant pages, all this is not merely given but sealed, at least for those whose blood yet sings, with a ghostly kiss. As our heroes tumble down Slumberland's gravity well, the visual layout courts and briefly entwines a passing echo of Windsor McCay's Little Nemo, patron saint of unanticipated bendiness. Like the desperate glances that flash between unrequited would-be adulterers in Won Kar-wai's classic
In the Mood for Love, the subtlety of the exchange only amplifies its erotic charge. Even now, I blush to remember...
Mangaka
Tsurubuchi Kenji not only channels this insane V'gerarium into an adventure that suits the 7th century setting, he sneaks in under cover of chaos to pluck a tune on your weary heartstrings. I haven't enjoyed a shounen series this much in ages and wouldn't be surprised if I soon counted it among my all-time favorites. The extent to which each chapter raises the bar on the last is making me giddy. Like when I first read
Berserk and got to the part where
Kentaro-sensei realized he could just crib weird shit out of Seba's
Cabinet and slap the pages around with a cat dipped in Kuretake black.
It's probably unsustainable, but who cares? Steal that fire and BURN 🚀