Deep in a swamp of the Andonian island chain grows a mushroom.  

Its twisted form shoots forth grasping hands with sharp claws.  

Hollow mouths exhale noxious fumes into the air.  

A dull groan fills the night air when the temperature is right.  

The season draws near when it will release its spores for a new crop.  

Fresh new fertile land of Andonia.

In the calm evening of the city,  

A child's eye is pulled to the sky,  

Shooting stars, one, two, four, eight,  

Delight fills his excited heart.  

"Daddy! DADDY!!", squealed the child, urging his father to catch up to him. "Look at the sky! So many shooting stars!"  

The boy's father was strolling quietly down the street, enjoying the warm evening air. He heard the wild screams of his excited son. This irritated him somewhat, as he would be drawing attention to them. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but notice the sky was indeed quickly filling with streaks of light.  

The son grabbed his father's hand as he approached, tugging on it excitedly. "Daddy! Can you believe it? What's happening? They're all coming from the moon! And look, the moon is all wobbly, it's not round anymore!" The boy pointed feverishly at the moon. It looked different.  

The father's interest started to turn to concern. The meteor shower was increasing rapidly in density. Tiny streaks of light were becoming occasional fireballs that burnt up in a wonderful explosion.  

"WHOA! Did you see that??" exclaimed his son as a particularly large meteor burst in the air.  

"Let's get home, son." He then picked up his child and walked briskly through the city streets, passing the buildings he'd passed every day. Those familiar buildings, always there, every day of his life.  

His son continued to make rapid exclamations as more and more meteors rained down. Suddenly he stopped and his hands clenched painfully around his father's shoulders.  

With a terrifying scream, his son bawled, "RUN DADDY!! RUN!!"  

His father turned his head back to look up in the direction of the moon. An incomprehensible burning mountain was descending directly above them, smaller chunks ripping off its edges and burning up. The air rumbled and burned.  

Pakatorei, Time to Say Good Bye.

An ominous floating mass loomed into view. Neither Stickman nor Cat had ever seen such a thing. But then again, neither Cat nor Stickman had seen such a thing as each other before either.  

It bobbed lazily on the air, puffing its body up, watching them silently through sloping eyes. Stickman heard the large cat above him scampering down a conduit running along the wall. With a screech, it hit the floor near him.  

The cat walked around Stickman, staring incredulously at him. The floating creature observed both with intent apathy. Stickman kept his gaze on the large furry cat.  

"So... you trying to make me dizzy or something?" said Stickman.  

The cat seemed to be sceptical of him. "What ARE you?" it said finally.  

"I'm an Andonian agent here to retrieve a signal retransmitter. What are you?" retorted Stickman.  

The Andonian monitoring centre broke through the dialogue suddenly, "To whom are you speaking, Stickman? Is everything alright?"  

"I think so, control. There's a couple folks here taking an interest, that's all," said Stickman. "Did you want me to take any samples of them for you?"  

After a brief pause, Andonian control responded, "No, just retrieve the transmitter and return to the retrieval point. You're running out of time."  

"So can I use your tools, fuzzy head?" asked Stickman.  

"My name is not Fuzzy Head. I am Mowinzehr Tohl Eloquovinscenson," replied the cat.  

Stickman took a step closer to the cat, turning his head trying to work out how to pronounce that name and said, "I'm going to call you Cat. The tools?"  

Cat looked down, "Yes, fine. What do you need?" Leaning down to retrieve the kit, Cat opened it and splayed out the various tools.  

Poking through the box, Stickman pulled out a long torch, "This will do." Then he set to work at the tendrils of the device buried in the wall.  

A distant clattering sound came from down the misty hall.  

Cat watched Stickman's body move about as he worked off the various connections to the device. One by one they separated and retracted. Stickman's spindly arms worked quickly.  

"How do you even exist? You're ridiculous, just a scribble. I can hardly see you from the side," said Cat.  

"I dunno, I just do. People back home are like you though, fat and complicated. Wiggly bits here and there," said Stickman as another tendril snapped off and pulled itself into the device. "Shhh! Did you hear something?"  

The floating creature behind them both suddenly sucked in a breath of air. It seemed anxious. Its movements began to take on an erratic side-to-side pattern.  

Cat looked around nervously. Stickman suddenly exclaimed loudly, "Got it!" pulling the fully detached mirror thing from the wall.  

Then the light flickered across them. Movement down the hall. A loud clattering of something hard against the floor. Then a shape formed at the furthest reach of the corridor. The mist swirled about a bizarre form.  

In this dark desert place, cold and empty, here lay blood.  

Harooo!

Shaking uncontrollably, the shadows pulling at his soul. The walls move away, offering no protection. The orbs flee. He is alone.  

"No, oh, no... Keta!? Doctor Xecia?? WHERE IS EVERYONE??!"  

Don't move, they'll see me. But they don't have eyes. It's the movement. They got Put right away. Those sickening, horrible, twisting THINGS!  

"It'll be ok, just overload the engines again. They'll have to come back to the ship when they hear the klaxons."  

He shifted his feet on the space of the floor. Fear twisted apart his resolve. There was no air.  

"No, no don't. Don't overload the engines! It's inside the ship! It's inside the-- he he... it's inside the ship. Ha!"  

Sobs and laughter rocked his small frame. The orbs began to drift. The blackness twisted in his mind.

The broken beast seeks its blood.  

Its rivers gone, stone beneath its bones.  

Harsh clatter of hard sponge against shaped mineral.  

Harooo.

Stars apart eternal distance,  

Tied by the thinnest of threads,  

Punctured by the self met needle,  

The universe stitched through,  

A new fabric torn from the old.  

Small twin, of greater son,  

Rent asunder, by foreign one,  

Sight unseen, thought unknown,  

Precious child, into the abyss thrown.  

From this fury's cry,  

Springs eternity's hope,  

And destiny's vengeance.

The swirly depths of the mists pulsed with a dark shadow. Spiny limbs danced over the surface, searching for a way to enter. The thin film of the mirror would not let it through.  

Drip, drip, drip.  

A cold wind swept the gutted land. Bones tumbled over soggy flesh. A shambling form tore its gaze into the mirror spawn.  

From far above an imperial voice inquired, "What is that in my mirror, Jeremy?"  

The scavenged creature, body ripped and bones shattered, leant over the spider, examining the dark form with its dried eye. Its long claws dug into the ground uncertainly.  

Drip, drip, drip.  

"What's the matter," snapped the deathly voice from the sky, "doesn't my little Jeremy know if it spies a playmate or a crib?"  

The being descended, the mists gained focus. Through the rough circle of the spider mirror the image resolved. Within the view stood a dark doll, poking at the mirror from the other side and a dirty cat behind it, watching intently as all cats do.  

Displeasure filled the unseen voice, "I'm so sorry, my little Jeremy. These are too far away for you to play with. But if they can open the door, I do promise, we'll invite them over for tea."  

Jeremy seemed to smile, causing some skin to tear. A trickle ran down his neck. Drip, drip, drip. New friends in the mirror.