Right on the heels of Episode 522 - it's Episode 523!

522 has ducked into a back alley in an attempt to escape the inevitable, but 523 has locked onto their scent. 522 looks around for anything they could use as a weapon, as the slobbering 523 approaches, dragging its lame, smoky leg across the hot cobbles.

It's been injured in the chase, and 522, for the first time, notices a sense of profound sadness in its lumbering gait. It takes no pleasure from this process. It is simply how things must be. It is no consolation.

522 rattles the wire fence at the end of the alleyway, more out of a sense of dramatic spectacle than any hope of escape. They can feel their fight draining, their joints stiffening: they had nine days, longer than perhaps they should have had. 523 squirms and twists through the puddles like a fleshy ampersand, and wraps its shapeless mouth around 522's bare feet. After just hours of mute protest, 522 is devoured.

523 must rest for now. Tomorrow it will dance, and drink, and truly taste - all with the desperate joy of one that knows its own fate. The mouth will be on its feet soon enough. All that remains to be seen is precisely how terrible 524 will be.

STEVE has noticed a shift in the time streams, JOE has noticed a constant whistling that dogs his everyday life. LOG is excited about the Gladiators coming back. NOW DANCE! DANCE LIKE YOU KNOW THE DATE OF YOUR DEATH