CHAPTER 2
“BACCHANALIA”
SPRING
SUBWAY ENTRANCE
THEO approaches the subway station entrance, checking to be sure it’s the one listed on Russ’ flyer. He would have missed it if he hadn’t been looking for it— one of those small unmanned side entrances with a turnstile doorway, protecting a stairwell into the darkness. He’s put on his best shirt, a designer knock-off like the GR€€D bros wear, topped by his leather camera sling and a couple of LOMO instant cameras. He’s ready.
Theo slips the origami crane out of his pocket, unfolds it delicately, and slips the contents out into his palm. The rusty subway token, stamped with a square “N,” a triangular “Y,” and a circular ”C,” feels heavy in his hand. He puts it into the slot and walks through the gate with a loud clang as the gate locks back into place. Attempting to wipe the powdered rust residue off his hands and only succeeding in smearing it all over, Theo gives up and wipes his hands on his jeans.
He descends the stairs into the darkness below.
SUBWAY TUNNEL
The abandoned station is a small one, made smaller by the partially collapsed tunnel at one end. He hops onto the tracks and walks away from the rubble, following glowing arrows painted on the walls. His eyes must be adjusting to the darkness in the tunnel as he walks, he thinks, because each arrows gets progressively brighter. His footfalls echo in the long expanse, mingling with drips and a faint, repeated thumping in the distance.
CURTAIN
Around a bend in the tunnel, just past a rivulet in the floor, stand the cloaked from of the GUARDIAN who ejected him last time and the menacing BOUNCER. They guard a large gateway made of I-beams, a doorway covered in industrial plastic freezer curtains. The Guardian leans forward, revealing her glowing face tattoo and a smile. The Bouncer growls, and Theo notices he has a similar sigil — a matching pair of glowing three-part symbols on his forearms. They stand out on muscular arms covered in red and black ink.
GUARDIAN
Ah, the troublemaker’s back! Russ told me to expect you. I’m Sharon. And this is The Serbian. Don’t mind him, he’s all bark, somewhat less bite.
She gives Theo a thorough inspection, with a flourish of theatrical revulsion.
SHARON
Oh, honey! You coming from casual Friday at the office? This is you working a look? A striped shirt? Really!? Always black, honey! Black is beautiful.
(beat)
But the harness is nice. Very rough trade. Sigh. Black next time, ok? Now head on in.
THEO
I was told this place was only for the “Broken”? In a manner that was kind of hard to forget. What changed?
Sharon laughs and pulls aside the curtain. Thumping bass and strobe lights spill from the gateway. Those strange tattoos, and the red lights in the walls, grow brighter still. Everything seemed to be leaving tracers as it moved.
SHARON
You’ll see. Follow me.
They step through the curtain— FLASH
SUBWAY TUNNEL
—and step out the other side into the central juncture of three seperate tunnels. From these other two emerge two other versions of Theo, visions of himself at other times in the night, his perception jumping between them. FLASH
The tunnel on the left is covered in glowing graffiti over white tiles, toilets on the wall and ceiling. Theo, with disheveled hair and dress shirt buttons half undone, is surrounded by red smoke and flanked by two figures: a short muscular unicorn man and a lanky pegasus man. They look at him, and FLASH
He’s suddenly in the right hand tunnel, and he’s a mess: he’s lost the dress shirt altogether, gray undershirt untucked. Lipstick is smeared on his cheek, and red powder is caked under his nose. The tunnel, now miraculously vertical, towers above him, topped with a glittering spider web. Descending on a silk thread is a pale-skinned spider/woman hybrid, simultaneously sexy and scary. She stops over his head and leans in seductively. Then bites him. FLASH.
He’s back in the central tunnel, standing next to SHARON.
THEO
What the fuck is going on??
SHARON
You’re Rusted now, honey. That subway token was covered in our drug of choice, and you absorbed it through your skin. You’re “in the red” now, like the rest of us. You wouldn’t have been allowed in otherwise. I mean, Russ thought you were putting off some serious rusted vibes before, but we had to be sure.
THEO
You drugged me?!
SHARON
Don’t worry, darling, you’ll be fine. This IS what you were looking for, after all.
THEO
But what is happening?
SHARON
You’re on Rust, and coming up fast. You are seeing into the infrared and magnetic spectrums, and your mind is starting to jump around in time and space. The first time is intense, so strap yourself in, and remember to breathe. Your train is now leaving the— FLASH
THE BATHROOM
Theo exhales a plume of red smoke, and doubles over in a coughing fit. He’s standing in a large co-ed bathroom, talking to the pegasus and the unicorn. Well, a winged man and a horned man. Actually, it’s RUSS and MANNY, the muscle boy he saw outside the club. Both are decked out in all black: Russ in his trademark winged shoes, track shorts, and his mirrored hoodie, with a manga-style Mothra tattoo and glowing Mercury symbol on his leg. Manny, short but wide, is rocking a Bulls hat and a My Little Pony T-shirt, of all things, two sizes too small. A huge glowing circle tattoo covers his shoulder, with an arrow extending across his chest to the opposite shoulder. Both Russ and Manny are surrounded by black metalic auras; Russ’s a large pair of wings, Manny’s a large muscular equine form with spikes that undulate languidly.
They’re both talking Theo’s ears off.
But every blink seems to bring a little clarity as Theo fights through the druggy haze. He’s just getting his bearings when— FLASH
THE DANCE FLOOR
He raises his head and wipes the dark red powder from his nose. He’s in a crowd of revelers on the dancefloor, jostled by bodies and pummeled by the lights and sound. He’s a sweaty mess, and peels his dress shirt off, wipes his brow, and tosses it aside. The sweet, metallic aftertaste of the Rust drips down the back of his throat. Above him, amid the strobing lights, is a spider web of overlapping mirrored triangles with an opening in the middle. Hot SPIDER GIRL is lowering herself down on a line directly above his head. Multiple arms sway, multiple eyes all lock onto his. He’s petrified. He’s in love.
As he focuses, she becomes human. She becomes the girl who saw him taking photos outside the club. She’s an aerialist, dancing in the air above the crowd on a silk sheet. She has that same glowing tattoo on her stomach, a multiple armed female symbol, and that same black chrome aura, taking the form of many eyes floating around her head and four ghostly arms. FLASH
LOUNGE
He’s back in the tunnel, SHARON leading him along. Her cloak bleeds into that same dark metallic glow. A loud honking blares out of the tunnel in front of them as a subway train comes barreling towards them on the center track. It slams on its breaks and screeches to a halt, the first car stopping just inches in front of them. Theo jumps back, and Sharon howls with laughter.
SHARON
Oh, honey! You need to get right! That train isn’t going anywhere. Look.
He looks again and realizes that the train was just sitting there, broken down and unmoving. He is fucke- FLASH
THE BATHROOM
The bathroom is filled with a wild mix of people, drag queens in wedding dresses doing their makeup in the mirror, a couple making out, and people going into the bathroom stalls two and three at a time. The subway tiles are covered in glowing red graffiti, neon-like, which is constantly shifting, morphing and seemingly floating two inches off the wall.
RUSS smokes his one-hitter, filling the air with thick red smoke, while MANNY scoops bumps of red powder out of a gold foil packet with his golden horn necklace.
RUSS
You should have seen it, Manny. He blew up Minus’ spot Like A Boss!
Manny, his sweet, child-like demeanor a stark juxtaposition to his wide, muscular form, is chewing Theo’s ear off about his My Little Pony collection. He has marionettes and puppets and a complete mint-in-box set of the originals. He goes through all the names and mythology, comparing them to their crew of friends at the club.
MANNY
They are so alike, they all have different “cutie marks”—
RUSS
—like our tattoos—
MANNY
there are unicorns—
RUSS
—Manny’s spikes—
MANNY
and winged ones—
RUSS
—like yours truly—
Russ passes the one-hitter to Theo, who waves it off, still reeling from the first one. He unbuttons his shirt collar in a vain attempt to get some air.
MANNY
—and they all have different magic powers they can—
RUSS
Yeah, yeah, Manny. You’ve said all this before. Just like all of us in The Alchemy. Superpowers and tattoos do not a My Little Pony make. Hahaha. Next you’re gonna say we’re the fucking Care Bears.
MANNY (pouting)
But I don’t collect the Care Bears!
Theo looks on in confusion. Finally, Russ interrupts Manny one last time, reminding him about the Rust he was promised. The loquacious Brony passes Russ another foil packet, they hug, and Russ leaves, escorting a wobbly Theo towards the main room. FLASH
THE LOUNGE
The “conductor” leans out the front window, collecting cover charges from people in front of them. Sharon walks past her, nodding.
SHARON
This one’s with me. He’s new to the “red.”
CASHIER
Minus said no more comps.
SHARON
Fuck that guy!
Sharon withdraws a subway token from the glowing folds of her coat and flicks it to the cashier.
SHARON
He wants to act like queen bee, then he should get up here and work the door.
Beyond, the train has been taken apart somehow and scattered throughout the tunnel like a modernist art project. Bars are set up in open train doors, poles serve as coat racks, and benches are scattered around the tunnel as lounge seating. Sharon walks him to the next car in the line, the bar car. He goes to order a Vodka Redbull but the guy next to him intercedes.
VOICE (OS)
I got him. Mezcal please. Three.
Walking up to the bar is a man in a flowing poncho, long beard, and wild, mascara-lined eyes, trailing a coterie of black clad hipster hangers on, all with gold nail polish. The leader is covered in thin, geometric triangle tattoos that terminate in that same kind of glowing tattoo these people share, this one a curvy “4” that covers the back of his hand. The bartender hands the man three glasses and the bottle, a scorpion floating around the bottom, and he pours three shots.
BEARDED MAN
You ever been to Mexico?
THEO
I mean, my family is from there, but no.
BEARDED MAN
I knew it. I fell in love with this stuff on my first vision quest to the Yucatan. Now it’s about all I drink.
He hands a shots to Theo, and then one to Sharon.
SHARON
I’ll stick to my usual, thanks.
Sharon scoops a bump out of a gold poison ring with a long scythe-like pinky ring. The bearded figure toasts them both.
BEARDED MAN
Para todo mal, mezcal, y para todo bien, también.
They drink, the man throwing back Sharon’s as well. The liquor cuts through the haze and helps Teo even out a bit.
BEARDED MAN
I’m Deadalus. Welcome to Broken Land. This is my club.
THEO
Theo. It’s an honor to meet you.
DEADALUS
It’s like I already know you Theo! You really kicked the hornets’ nest, pissing off Minus with that mural stunt of yours. It attracted too much attention from the squares. We had to switch to using other subway entrances to protect our secrecy.
THEO
That was kinda the idea, attracting attention. Well, yours anyway. The more someone tells me I shouldn’t go somewhere, the more I want in, you know? Sorry, I guess.
DEADALUS
Don’t be. You were curious. You applied your skills to the quest for greater understanding. That I can appreciate. Plus, it’s kind of fun watching that brat Minus get all bent out of shape, just like that necklace of his.
We’re building something big here, Theo. A bunch of busy ants getting ready for the winter. You in?
Teo
Yeah, you bet.
DEADALUS
Sharon, take care of our new friend. I’ve got to get to the booth.
He chuckles and walks away, his entourage in tow.
THEO
Wow, this is his place, huh?
SHARON
Top to bottom! A real nutjob, that one. But also a true visionary. He’s Broken Land’s creator and resident DJ. Pretty much worshipped by all of the Broken.
THEO (looking around)
It’s a lot more diverse here than I’m used to at GR€€D.
SHARON
Ugh, that place? The history of dance music in New York IS the history of the outsider. Queer, Black, and Hispanic kids, listening to disco, freestyle, house and techno. Doing drag, graffiti, spoken word…
She looks at Theo’s cameras.
And now it looks like we’ve got a photographer. All forms of outsider art that you’ll encounter here. Don’t let some rich white kids steal that from us.
Theo
But I thought Minus was in charge.
Sharon
They’re partners, but make no mistake, it’s Deadalus’ show. That’s why you’re still welcome. Minus takes care of the business side of things that Deadalus can’t be bothered with.
Sharon begins walking them further down the tunnel, the music and lights growing in intensity, leaving tracers and echoes in Theo’s brain.
THEO
So what is this stuff you gave me?
SHARON
It’s what makes Broken Land tick. It’ll keep you up, dull the pain, and pull you out of your own head.
THEO
Yeah, I’m not having any of my usual headaches, even with all this tech. Dulling the pain is right.
SHARON
Rust puts you “in the red,” able to see and hear music and lights normal people can’t even perceive. But it will burn you, literally, if you don’t do it off something gold, like a piece of jewelry or this-
Sharon produces a bottle of gold nail polish from inside her cloak and ceremoniously paints it onto Theo’s thumb. She leans in, and blows it dry.
SHARON
And like I said, it will fuck with your perception of time in a big way your first couple of trips.
THEO
Yeah, no shit.
SHARON (laughing)
Normally the visions aren’t so intense. Deadalus and Russ actually use them to their advantage. You’ll be ok. Now let’s get you to the main room, Russ is waiting for— FLASH
DANCE FLOOR
THEO is on the crowded dance floor, staring up at the stage. Everyone around him is carrying a cheap plastic flashlight, as is Theo. On, but pointing down, the swirling lights the only illumination in the room, except for on stage. There, a shadowy scene is projected onto a thin, back-lit curtain hanging across the front of the stage. A dancer, dancing skillfully with ribbons. A larger shadow, looming over, dancing in unison, but not as well. Angered, the large shadow points down and the lights strobe in anger. Shamed, the better dancer hangs her head, and appears to be fitted with a noose and raised into the air. The lights cut out. The curtain drops. As the music builds, Theo sees the GOTH PIXIE raised up into the air, hanging high above the dance floor. Her body is wrapped tight in a series of beautifully elaborate ropes and knots. She struggles seductively, finally freeing her neck and falling head first straight towards the crowd. They gasp in unison. She jerks to a stop inches above the onlookers, and the crowd’s flashlights find her in the darkness. Her ghostly eyes open, a pair at a time, and she begins a seductive strip tease, still swinging above the dance floor. The crowd cheers. Her ghostly arms free themselves one by one, as the ropes fall away, until she is free. As the music builds to crescendo, she swings out around the room in ever widening arcs. When the drop hits, everyone waves their flashlights in the air. The PIXIE, swings toward Theo- FLASH
MAIN ENTRANCE
SHARON and THEO emerge from the tunnel into the main room of the club. The entire subway station is visible, three track widths packed with people, stairs leading up on both sides to the platforms, with a full bar on the right and the stage on the left. At the opposite end, jutting out of the dark subway tunnel on a raised dais is the DJ booth, with an ornate, mirrored astrological clock and two angled subway cars taking up the back wall. The domed ceiling of the old station soars above them, massive cracks in the walls filled in with gold. Overlapping, triangular catwalks hang in the air above the room, the spider webs of Theo’s earlier hallucination. A pair of massive speaker stacks flanks the DJ booth, with a third stack at the rear of the dance floor near the entrance. Loud music and intricate lights fill the air, fill Theo’s senses, until a new flicker of light by the bar catches his eye. He looks to see RUSS, disco ball hoodie glittering in the dark, and THEO himself, looking a little worse for wear, emerging out of the bathroom. They walk around the bar and up to the edge of the dance floor.
MAIN BAR
THEO and RUSS come out of the bathroom and walk past the main bar and to the edge of the platform, where a long, low set of stairs descends into the sea of people on the dance floor. Across the way, sitting on the edge of the stage, is THEO, wearing a rumpled gray undershirt and a look of utter confusion. They see him catch sight of something to his right and stand up.
MAIN STAGE
The performance over, THEO sits on stage, in awe. He notices something familiar at the entrance: SHARON and… himself, just as they looked when he first arrived, walking into the main room.
MAIN ROOM
In quick succession, all three THEOS stare at their counterparts. Seen from above, they form a perfect triangle as their perceptions merge. Understanding replaces confusion as Theo marvels at the geometric architecture, amazing for something built in an abandoned subway— SLAP!
THE STAGE
THEO is jerked suddenly out of his trance by a hard, painful, but not entirely unpleasant smack in the face. GOTH PIXIE, wearing just her arial harness and strategically placed electrical tape, is standing in front of him. The slap has brought him out of the time jumps, grounding him.
THE MAIN BAR
THEO shakes off the vision of his past and future. RUSS grabs him.
RUSS
Come one, let’s hit the dance floor. ARIA should be performing soon.
MAIN ROOM
THEO and SHARON stand at the mouth of the tunnel, as RUSS calls down from the light booth above.
RUSS
Hey! You made it. Sharon, thanks for letting him in. I’ll take him from here.
Russ climbs down a ladder on the side of the nearest speaker stack.
RUSS
You look like you’re off to a good start, brother! Let’s hit the bathroom. I gotta see a man about some horse. Or a horse about some Rust. What I mean is, I need to catch up to (gestures to Theo) THIS.
THE STAGE
Normality slightly restored, THEO stares up, starstruck, at the girl Russ called ARIA.
ARIA
Sorry, I could tell you were having a moment. Sometimes you need a bit of pain mixed in with the pleasure to keep you from getting completely oxidized. You’re the photographer from the alley right? I’m Aria.
TEO
Theo. Theo Solis.
Theo nurses his stinging cheek.
ARIA
A little pain never hurt anybody. (giggle)
She alights a quick kiss on his face, adding some blood red lipstick to the bright pink hand print.
ARIA
All better. Deadalus is about to go back on. You don’t want to miss it!
She nudges Theo down the steps to the dance floor as the club is plunged into complete darkness. A lone spotlight shines down on Deadalus as the crowd erupts in applause. He mixes between three decks of reel to reel tapes with a complicated mixing console awash in a tangle of wires. He lifts a new, red tape into the air before slotting it into the player, and slowly mixes into it.
As the beat builds, moving tracer lights outline the bottom edges of the maze of light trusses above them, illuminating the mirrors underneath. Theo looks up, seeing the crowd reflected in the mirrors, with Russ back up in the catwalks, controlling the lights. He sees himself in the mirrors above, at the center of the crowd. It is a dizzying experience, as new frequencies of sound and light fire neurons in his brain. The crowd goes crazy, and when the song hits a climax, they all point their flashlights at DEADALUS and the rotating, mirrored dome behind him. The light scatters back across the room, and it’s awesome.
The crowd yells in excitement, and Theo, a part of it, yells the loudest. Russ tosses a sheaf of mimeographs into the air, and they float down slowly onto the crowd below. At the same time, Deadalus flips a switch on his mixer, isolating a single phrase of the song. “Flashlights and explosions!” Blinding golden energy pulses from inside the triangular speaker cones, the music beautiful and piercing. Theo’s vision goes black and white, and he is elsewhere.
The flyers are sheet music.
The DJ booth is a baby grand.
On the piano sits a triangular metronome, the beat of the song blending into the metronome’s loud ticks. The piano sits atop a crumbling pyramid, two boys alone at its peak.
The older boy plays the piano, Dark Side of the Moon on his shirt. Theo wishes his brother wouldn’t leave. The little boy loves watching him play. He’s trying to take his picture with the cheap plastic camera, but everything was blurry. Focus, the brother calls out over the thundering of the piano notes, laughing. See the image in your mind.
He tries. He’ll get better eventually. He knows this. But this is the last time he’ll get to hear this song. And the last picture he has of his brother before he goes off to study in the city. So far away.
A flyer lands on Theo’s head, snapping him out of his reverie. A summer-themed haiku is printed on it, with the date and location of the next party glowing brightly in red ink. Theo will be there.
FADE OUT
THE DANCE FLOOR
It’s the end of the party, and the crowd has thinned to just the hardcore. They’ve spread out across the charred wooden dance floor that covers the old train tracks, finally having some room to dance. The Alchemy, all of the people Theo has met tonight, have filled the DJ booth and stage, having their own party. RUSS leads THEO toward the booth, where he bumps into ARIA. She’s smoking a joint clipped into a gold clip on a chain wrapped around her neck like a choker.
ARIA
You made it! You’ve come a long way from GR€€D, with your bro shirts and lost look in your eyes.
THEO
I’m still lost. What time is it even?
ARIA
It’s so late it’s early. You got lost in the music. And the moment. That’s great. But don’t lose yourself in all this chaos, little shutterbug. I’ve seen too many people come and go, burning fast and bright fast in the darkness.
THEO
You mean the drugs?
ARIA
That’s part of it. Rust is great, don’t get me wrong. But some people make it their whole personality. For a bunch of non-conformists, they sure all act the same. Don’t lose that light in you that makes you different. Don’t stop taking your pictures, and stirring up trouble like you do. We need more of that.
THEO
I’ll try. You guys do this every weekend?
ARIA
Great! I guess I’ll see you around then. There’s something going on every night here in New Brooklyn. But these big parties? Four times a year, on every equinox and solstice. These are our holidays. This is our religion. Now come on, let’s get you in to the booth!
Aria leads Theo into the now crowded DJ booth, just as DEADALUS ends his set. The crowd erupts into applause, chanting for one more song. The DJ milks it, letting them chant as he turns to Theo.
DEADALUS
Ah, the new kid. Russ told me about you. A square, but already in the tribe. Very unique, that. I see you’ve fully embraced the Alchemy. Did you find what you were looking for?
THEO
Why does everyone keep thinking I’m lost?
DEADALUS
They all are, those who seek us out. And The Alchemy provides. Maybe not what you wanted. But always what you need. Welcome to Broken Land.
Someone gives Deadalus the wrap it up signal. It’s MINUS, the preppie promoter who had THEO beaten up. He becomes irate when he sees Theo, but Deadalus’ presence seems to keep him at bay. Theo notices.
Aria leans over and whispers in Deadalus’ ear. He smiles, pulls out a new tape reel and slots it in the reel to reel player. Aria nudges Russ, and they both head up to the catwalks, Aria winking at Theo as she goes. The song comes on, an old favorite remixed in a slow, druggy pace, and the crowd cheers and smiles in recognition. Re-energized, everyone settles in to their practiced end of the night rituals.
As the chorus kicks in, Russ turns a crank to open skylights in the dome above. Bright beams of midday sunlight stream in, silhouetting the catwalks and illuminating the decrepit beauty of the room. Aria dances barefoot on top of one of the speaker stacks, eyes closed. MANNY pulls out a pair of his homemade My Little Pony marionettes, which he skillfully makes dance on the wall of the DJ booth. SHARON and the SERBIAN triplets, finally off duty, dance on stage. Sharon does fierce drag runway, while the Serbs form a surprisingly good B-Boy pop-and-lock trio. Even Deadalus and Minus dance, twirling and spinning a pair of lookalike groupies. Were those the waitresses from GR€€D?Theo finally has the wherewithal to take pictures, instamatic shots of all of them.
The song ends and the crowd cheers, sharing hugs and smiles all around. The party is over.
RUSS (calling down from the catwalks)
Hold up! I’ll walk out with you.
SUBWAY STATION
Theo and Russ walk out of the station and up the stairs, stepping over beer cans, gold foil packets and flyers.
Theo is looking at his photos from the booth in confusion. Away from the pummeling overstimulation of the club, he is feeling a bit more clear-headed. But the instant photos in his hand show the same glowing black halos around Deadalus, Minus, Aria and the rest. Russ glances down at the pictures.
RUSS
Nice, you really captured the Chrome nicely. Magnetic film, huh?
THEO
Yeah, but that’s not how it works.
Theo points to photos of the sound system and the lights.
See here? The glow around the electrical equipment and speakers? That’s expected. But what the hell is this around all your friends? And you! I must be higher than I thought.
RUSS
Oh, you are definitely still high. But that’s no mistake. You got it just right. I thought we told you.
THEO
What, in the bathroom? About the My Little Ponies? You’re saying you guys have superpowers!?
RUSS
Yeah, all of the members of The Alchemy do. The rest of the tribe is “in the red”. That includes you, now. Rusted. But the seven of us are “in the black.” Those fields around us are monoChrome. Chrome for short. See?
Russ strikes a pose as huge, gleaming wings unfurl from his back, causing the exiting revelers to cheer. Theo is in shock. Russ uses the opportunity to lift Theo’s camera and take a selfie of the two of them. They climb the steps out of the subway station, Theo still staring at the developing instant photo. Coalescing into view is his own befuddled expression, Russ’ smirk, and his new friend’s dark metallic wings behind them both. As they emerge into the harsh daylight, Russ deftly slips on a pair of aviator sunglasses and looks up towards the sun. Theo, unprepared for it’s brilliance after twelve hours spent in the dark, squints in pain. Russ cackles in delight and hugs his new friend.
Russ’ Journal
Imagine being at a warehouse party at the end of the world. That was the eponymously named Ragnorok Rave in 2012, when the earthquake hit. We were in that weird eye of the storm at its epicenter, but it was still scary as shit. But when the dust cleared, a whole new world under our feet was revealed: an abandoned subway station from the turn of the century. Like its famed sister station at City Hall, this beauty had Guastavino-tiled arches, chandeliers, and ornate skylights. Fabulous!
Its proximity to the Shanghai tunnels below had led to its closure, but now here it was, ready for a glow up. Deadalus remade the station into the nightclub of our dreams, with input from all the Broken. He repaired the cracked walls in Kintsugi-inspired gold welds (my influence, natch), added hanging silks and dancing podiums for Aria, a curtained stage for Sharon, dark alcoves for Manny’s “dealings”, and even a VIP area behind the booth for Minus.
But his greatest addition was the sound system, the Magnum Opus. Three massive speaker stacks and three booth monitors, all playing Deadalus’ special reel-to-reel remixes. See, the Opus was made to work specifically with our Rust-enhanced brains, putting out crazy sonic and electro-magnetic frequencies only we can perceive. We could hear high notes that a dog would miss, feel bass notes in our soul and even see the music in full color. That’s called chromosthesia, bee tee dubs. When the Opus is firing on all cylinders, Deadalus doesn’t even need me manning the lights. And every once in a while, when the mood is perfect, he’ll bust out a special tape that massages our brainstems just so, causing insane visions that cut through the fabric of time and space.
