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Repent, lost souls! The very enlightened Cyloxxt roams Clint City adorned in his sacred armor, preaching the truth of Glibon Dashra Sakrh... without any official authorization. According to him, the Intergalactic Apocalypse is imminent, even though everyone knows it has already passed since Fractal sent Genesis into hyperspace. Out of touch but harmless, the Sakrohm have set him up with a cushion, a microphone... and a lot of patience: at the head of a small neighborhood cult, he excommunicates science fiction fans, rants against movies that "distort the sacred image of aliens," and demands that everything suggesting human resistance be burned. Most passersby ignore him, but some swear that when he prophesies at the right moment, the stars twinkle a little brighter.
