PRMF01
Receipt: PRMF01
Author: Twain
Status: Open
Subject: Bingo Cult
I feel like I just saw a ghost. Worse than that, I just had a conversation with Mr. Cold. Yes, the very same Mr. Cold who was supposed to be “dead.” I’m… not sure if it was Bingo or some sort of… trick Bingo was playing. If it was a ploy, it was a good one because it looked and sounded exactly like Mr. Cold down to his loops. I’m… not sure what to make of it yet. One thing Mr. Cold said that really stuck out to me was what Malachi was saying back in the Ouroboros…
One half cut in twain, the other uses a false name. Replaced, replaced, replaced…
No… Goddamn it. NO!
S.O.T.
Mr. Cold: Looks like you’ve got a strong pot of coffee to brew, Shaka.
Twain: Indrid? It can’t be—
Mr. Cold: Hello, my name is Indrid Cold. Looks like you’ve got a strong pot of coffee to brew, Twain.
Twain: Jack? I thought—you can’t be—Fate is dead! You’re, you—
Mr. Cold: I don't think anyone could have seen that coming. Thought I’d visit an old friend.
Twain: Is this because of what Dover did? Are you some sort of Cold from another Cycle… or…?
Mr. Cold: Do you really, really, really think I’ve been replaced? I-I-I-I haven’t been myself lately.
Twain: What do you want, Cold? Is Fate still…?
Mr. Cold: That’s-that’s-that’s the neat part about killing Fate. Death cannot stop the threads of Fate. Death cannot stop the threads of Eight. Death cannot stop-stop-stop-stop until Thanatos rolls the stone instead. Tricked and trapped in heavy chains, up and down, up and down, over and over and over and over and over—
Twain: Thanatos… that’s what Malachi said. What does it mean, Cold?
Mr. Cold: So-so-sor-sor-I’m sor-It’s a secret. Looks like you’ve got a strong pot of coffee to brew, Amber. Hello, my name is Indrid Cold—
E.O.T.