#caten

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Published January 18, 2026 In a busy, however chilly 24 hours, Milano Moda Uomo ranged from the mountain celebration animal fashion at Dsquared2 or fisherman’s impressed moods at Setchu, to Paul Smith’s archive revival and Corneliani’s AI-influenced show. Dsquared2: Rocky Mountain ravers Dsquared2’s invitation this season was a ski cross, although one imagined that it primarily gained friends…

The sunlight shimmers off an ocean of polished stone that screams the supremacy of Will. Sprawling mansions, triumphal arches, temples replete with towers that stretch impossibly high, each one distinct, twisting and curving and angled in ways that no standard construction method could ever achieve. Some of those have walkways between them, passageways with long arches that gaze imperiously down onto the streets beneath.

Between and surrounding all of that is . . . more. Smaller wooden structures, ten times the number of the stone ones. There are paved roads. Bustling squares. Expansive baths. Statues. Even from here, I can see that everything's in constant motion throughout it all—not just people but larger objects, stalking or rolling along the streets. The great Will-driven machines I've heard so much about, presumably. Too distant to properly make out.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" Ulciscor is watching me expectantly.

It's terrifying. Terrifying. This is my enemy. These are the people who want me dead. The Hierarchy's shadow lies over all, and I've never considered myself blind to their power, but this is something else. I can't calculate the city's size; I can't see its end. Buildings both lavish and shabby coat the shores of the bay and then sprawl back up the gently rising ground beyond, until they fill the horizon in every direction. There's no way to grasp its enormity, no mental comparison by which I can diminish the horrified awe it inspires.

Sometimes I believe my resistance means something. Sometimes my anger keeps me warm as I tell myself that somehow, one day, I might figure out a way to repay the pain and loss I owe to Caten.

It's hard, when the lies that let you sleep are so cruelly laid bare.

"Not bad." I keep my tone light. Grin in Ulciscor's direction to show that, yes, I'm impressed. Tamp down the melancholy, burying it deep.