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Brunhilde’s cock is as big as the sun. She fucks the sun, and the sun comes rising into the eyes of a billion soulslaves white eyes minds nerves cells chains atoms space. Brunhilde sees the stars and the leptons and owns all of it. Leases it. They are begging her indulgence to spin.

Comedown: she shakes all over and plucks feebly at electrodes. “What,” she tries. “Whafuck. Was that.”

“You’ve heard of deus ex machina?” asks Haroun, twisting dials on the black box.


“This is what happens,” he says, “when you don’t let it out,” and turns the crank again.