Crystal Palace, in all its endless worker-bee wonder, clacks and whirs its way across space, and now, as it nears the destabilizing stain of the Twilight Mirage, time as well. Even now, in transport, it is thinking, predicting, prophesying: Its pulleys spinning with magnetic unison, decks of hole-punched cards flipping through its designators, a pleasant coughing of gears and pinions. This is how it knows everything. But it did not always: There was a moment before its creation--back when there was still time to divert the direction of the Principality--and a time during its bloody construction, when it felt the waves of the future but could not yet pass them on to us in anything more than a mechanical roar. And then there was the day it was finished, the very beginning of Guaranteed Events. This week on Twilight Mirage: Guaranteed Events, Or: An Accounting of the Time When We Built the Machine You dream of walls that hold us imprisoned It's just a skull, least that's what they call it And we're free to roam Written, Hosted, and Produced by Austin Walker (@austin_walker) Music by Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal)

Cover Art by Craig Sheldon (@shoddyrobot)

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