“Son of Man,” he uttered disgustingly while approaching the man on the cliff. “*Sun* of Man. How could I fall for such a load of… well, *bunk*!” It was the strongest word he still dare hurl against his once beloved belief, his beloved former lord and savior and spokespersons thereof. No C word yet, no S word.
Then staring at the surrounding landscape far below he got an idea. He had to get rid of the new to return the old. Just like a certain island we’ll get back to soon. Switching to a dream more in the daylight, he positioned himself directly behind the *cult* leader while drawing his gun. Yeah, CULT. “Turn around,” he said. “*Me.*”
*POP*. Someone else had to fall for the same thing.
Dusk again, Jack merely spat a goodbye to his former guru and returned to the city, his job here done, he felt. But daydreams would linger… TBC
Sunklands 