It has been so long, the broken color electronic has begun to fade. Cold metal ktan ktan ktan of linkers running, heads down, hastily scribbling and tossing links to the wind, into the unflinching devouring jaws of the readers above, black toothy skulls with indeterminate eyes, birdlike, hunting and snapping. Back away, Octavius gives smirk at them, pulls softleather sleeve to watch: 2352. 8 min will be fine, he decides, they will get past the reset. A few turn off down a sidelink, weaving through nodeshells and into a sprawling factual, ducking behind the references; the others directly inbound. It is a cold night to be noding. In his mind, Octavius hears his mentor laugh: "Dead Links! Linking isn't really all about putting in some square brackets to keep the CEs off you back: it's about sharing good ideas and guiding the readers along some paths that you, the noder, have thought out on beforehand." and light washes through his eyes. Pulling a pen from his pocket, he falls running down a vertical slope toward the doomed ones. Tonight, He will be the link.