Franklyn

Preest: But don't get me wrong. This wasn't fate. For every soul of this deluded population who believed in fate's comic clockwork, they neglect to see the wear and tear beneath the surface. The teeth that grind into the cogs. The damage that fate causes so many in its selfish journey towards just one favourable consequence. The Individual had simply run out of luck, and I was here to collect.

Preest: Fractured. Infected. Forgotten. Meanwhile's slum quarter.

Preest: If you needed to find someone, the best place to start was the Faith Registration Centre - Meanwhile's melting pot of the pious. Every creed, cult, religion and doctrine pass through these doors, all looking for the same sense of belonging and hope.

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