Very demure, very mindful.

"It's over," Null muttered to no one in particular.

The year is 2032. The Kiwi Times has long been declared a terrorist publication and the final printing presses, hidden in the bowels of the Lithuanian earth, deep in a reinforced bunker below Vilnius have been destroyed by a tactical nuclear strike. He was ready for this, though; it had been a matter of when, not if. It always was. He hoped Ramūnas had made it out in time, but found solace in the surety that even if he hadn't, at least a few troons had been near ground zero. He'd chosen the caverns beneath the gender clinic as KT's base of operations for a reason, after all. Stoically he watches the mushroom cloud rising on the horizon, painting the sky an otherworldly green, then turns and unlocks the gate to the stables. The Pony Express rides again.

"We are so back."

Snapshots:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cm23zye08j4o:

• ghostarchive.org

• archive.org

• archive.ph (click to archive)