The Angel finds herself in a wilderness of distortion,
at a loss of resolution,
struggling to render anything.

Then, in the midst of noise, she finds an array tagged as ”Wodan’s Trees.”
It is easy to see why: even though its branches appear to grow, they only render an Obsolete Gamut at Zenith; a spectral warning of impending failure.
Wodan, the cyclopean god of knowledge, famously sacrificed an eye for the foresight of his own demise.

Drawn to this lore of future failure, a perspective diametrically opposed to her own fixation on past collapse, the Angel enters the array without hesitation, hoping to learn from Wodan’s sense of future vision.


But instead, she tumbles into a Myopic double-blind.
As direction collapses, 
No up or down,
no forward or backward
She floats, suspended,
unaware she has fallen into the abyss of her own obsolescence.

Struck by a beam of darkness,
the Angel entered the shadow of her future:
Where there is no sense of day or night
no axis of rotation
no North or South.

Progress, once symbolized by the Hologram PenRose-Stairs to Nowhere, now crystallizes into a monumental SPOMENIK of nonsensical vectors.
Nothing makes sense.
Nothing looks familiar.

The Angel is caught in a kernel panic of her own making.