We thought we could manipulate time. Defy its flow.

“What on Earth do you use a sonic hammer for?”

“Yeah,” Hama said, “I’m a GIRL that wants to become a WARRIOR!”

The girl is nervous as the author signs her well-worn hardcover.

“Since that fallin’ star,” I say, plucking a deformed cob.

Dumped as garbage, I’m abandoned.

I recognized its features masked in twisted torment.

“No. I’m the first goth superhero.”

“Jo is a three-meter-tall war-bot!”