"Three," a cacophony of voices cheered, "Two. One. Happy New Years!"

Its Midnight. The first of the month. January. The year is 1998.

A nameless bounty hunter awakes, chain bound to an inescapable death and committed to one sentiment. Seize the day. Chill and thrill.

It's like a dream. So vivid when you first open your eyes, yet each attempt to grasp it, it becomes more distorted until but a myth remains, an idea. All that's left is the thought of it. The feel of it. The taste of it. So it was a thousand years ago when an entity fell from the stars, riding on a giant corpse. "I am the Third-Eye Paradox, the psychomancer. I am your enemy." To some this story is a myth, to others history. In either case, the name Paradox emerges once again as dark reflections spread and wicked eyes open.

Laptop broke, and it will be a while before I can get a replacement. Placing on hiatus in the meantime.

Shoutout to user proxybaba for the coverart.