238 | John W. Warner IV countless millennia ago, the resonance gong sounded by Herr Schumann, our ears ringing…ringing…ringing. The mismatched former lovers are two irregular pillars precariously supporting a crumbling edifice; an Hermeticists erotic trance within a lucid tropical nightmarethe both of them. A lengthy pause. And? he asked softly. Eyes met Speculum. I see…only vague probabilities…unclearly…they… /ยป^he said angrily, causing a thundering echo. Crowley slowly put head in hands, weeping softly. Only if Rodgers survives, then so shall…they…all.