There don't seem to be any books anymore, so me writing all this down may be a waste of time. Most of the Dirt probably can't read it anyway, since reading doesn't have much to do with surviving. And the Corporates, well they don't want to hear what I've got to say. But I have to say it somehow, and I'm not a Rocker with a top-1000 hit to my name, so I'll just have to write it and hope that someone will read it someday.

It was the Mayans who understood it first, I think. No one believed them of course. I mean, where was the evidence? A few old faerie tales told to amuse or frighten children could hardly be taken as empirical evidence now could it? And the Mayans had been vaped centuries ago. At first the abnormal births were explained as "routine genetic defects" and were plastered all over the front of the tabloid newspapers at the supermarkets. "BABY IS SPOCK'S SON: Mother was raped by Aliens from Outer Space!!!". "LIZARD BABY BREATHS FIRE!!" "GIRL BORN WITH FIVE O'CLOCK SHADOW!!" It wasn't long though before somebody you actually knew had a "deformed" baby. Trouble was, they weren't really deformed as much as they simply weren't human. It didn't matter if you were a panzergirl, a dirtboy, an exec, a buttonhead, or just a cyberpunk. It seemed like no group was spared, neither Corporate or Dirt. It was rumored that even the Orbitals were affected. Who would have believed that a bunch of Mayans, dead for half a millennium, could predict that magic would come back?

The Mayans believed that magic, or the forces of nature that they called magic, followed a sine wave through history. It was present on the upswing, but gone on the downswing. Elves, Dwarves, Changelings, and all the rest, they weren't really mutants. They were just the result of the upswing of magic reacting with certain DNA types. They had always had the genetic potential to be one of the other races, but the magic was needed to realize that potential. They were rare at first, and shunned. But they grew in numbers, and banded together. Most of them were already different enough that they didn't go in for cybernetic enhancements much. Besides, why augment a lizard-like HissHaarraah for strength when most of them can trash six normal human punks already? And the Elves were born with infrared vision and image enhancement, not to mention boosted reflexes. Changelings were the least accepted though. As newborns, they don't seem to have a fixed shape. They just blur through features, looking like whoever is around them for a few minutes, then change into somebody else. They don't seem to control it, it just sort of happens. But they learn to control it, everybody knew, and maybe one day they'd take your shape and cop up your life. Thousands of Changeling babies were slaughtered. And just like the faerie tales, people began to hide their Changeling babies until they were old enough to control their changes.

And then one day about fifty years ago, somebody caught a Claver trying to steal some tech from a thirdman in Chigaukee. Seems he had the ability to work with the forces of magic; casting spells and all that. He called it sorcery. That thirdman didn't have the knack for sorcery, but a few of the netrunners that pirated data and software for him took to it like maggots to a bloater. 'Course then one of the Orbitals got wind of it all, nobody knows which Orbital for sure, and the thirdman got iced and the Claver was snatched. But that couple of netrunners, or mages as they now call themselves, they learned. There's more than a few around who've got the ken of sorcery now, especially among the Dirt, since they're most ready to believe in magic.

So now we have a new time of Faerie. It was crazy when all we had were people getting all done up with cybernetic enhancements and jacking in personality modules so they could live the life of somebody else. Now, well now its just a nightmare in the city, and worse in the Outlands. The Clavers have the right of it I guess. A hundred or so years ago those Indian Nations that nobody took seriously finally settled their own differences, and isolated themselves into city-like Enclaves. They had just finished with the tech to put up the force fields around their Enclaves when the Orbitals dropped the first rocks. What with the ecolapse caused by the bus-sized rocks from orbit hitting major cities with the force of a hydrogen bomb, spewing uncountable tons of debris into the atmosphere, and the resulting population collapse, the Clavers are the only ones who seemed to weather it all okay. And they never leave their 'Claves. Or at least almost never, eh?

Humans aren't the only ones with DNA susceptible to magic. Many new animal types began to show up. Pegasus, the winged horses showed up again. They're kind of pretty, but nobody sees 'em around the city anymore. Huge beasts with the wings of a giant eagle, the head of a lion, and the legs of a goat showed up and started reducing the human population just like the Gryphons from mythology. Some of the nastiest don't just look weird though. With some animals, magic made them a real bitch. The harmless Gila lizard sprouted two extra legs on each side, and their gaze will turn you to stone. That creature was featured in mythology too. It was called a Basilisk, so that's what we call 'em now. Cockatrice, Trolls, giant carnivorous Wyrms, and countless more are around. Some are monsters, some more like normal animals with a few visual twists. And of course, there are the Dragons.

What can be said about Dragons? Well, they ain't like Puff in that old song. I think it would be safe to say that the tiny population of the world that is brilliant yet totally amoral, the true genius psychopaths with absolutely no social conscience, those are the few who became Dragons. Now take that foul essence and wrap it in a scaled body fifty feet long, twenty feet tall, with huge teeth and claws. Add the ability to breath fire and cast magic spells. Now you have a Dragon. And they're not hiding off in some lonely mountain sleeping on a giant hoard of treasure either. They're right here, in the cities, being the CEO's of most of the powerful corporations. Nobody seems to know if they run the Orbitals yet or not. It's only a matter of time if they don't. They are the most bloodthirsty, vicious bastards that ever stalked the Earth.

Life in the Outlands is almost an oxymoron. It's hard out there, and mostly just nomads and those who are on the lam venture Out. The cities, they aren't so bad. Most everybody gets something to eat almost every day. There's always a spot to squat for the night, sometimes even inside somewhere. The Corporates, well they've got everything, and only those that work for them get the choice leavings. Some of the thirdmen do all right, too, so long as they don't seriously step on some Corporations' profits. Mostly everybody just lives day to day. Got a bit of cash that's worth something today? Most will blow it right away on some new piece of tech, or maybe a better weapon. Or buy food, of course, depending on when they ate last. The cash might not be worth the plastic it's printed on tomorrow, so you might as well spend it when it's worth something. Most don't really use it now, they just barter. You always know what a gun is worth!

I haven't mentioned the pharmacopoeia available to anybody with a little wampum yet, have I? Designer drugs became the in thing thirty or so years ago. Before then, drugs were pretty (dare I say it?) ordinary. Now you can produce almost any effect you want, and a staggering array of effects you can't imagine anyone desiring. A few of them don't have any long-term side effects that have shown up yet, but most of them twist you up pretty well. Some produce severe multiple-personality conditions, especially if you chip in a personality module while you're on them. But the draw is there, I suppose. Like being 'ragiously tapped on Ecstasy-XII, for example, while you have a James Bond module chipped in, so that every woman looks like a playfem who is madly in heat with you. Good escapism if you're one of the lucky ones who can jack out the moddy when you're done. Otherwise you stay James Bond, with your own personality constantly trying to exert itself. Most just end up killing themselves after a while. Some end up killing others, raving about SPECTRE, before somebody vapes them. You can get anything you want, as long as a long, sane life isn't what you want. I'm exaggerating a little bit. There are some basically harmless drugs around too, like caffeine or nicotine sticks, and snapcoke. They'll kill you too, but it takes so long, that nobody ever dies as a direct result of them. There are too many more exciting ways to die.

There are some new plagues around now. They aren't really new as much as they are old ones with some magic skew added in. What used to be called AIDS used to leave people unable to resist most viruses and disease. Now it turns them into people who can resist almost anything. The catch is that the only thing on which their modified physiology can survive is human blood. So now we have Vampires again. Infections from certain animal types bring back an old myth, too. Surviving the attack of a Dire Wolf or a Hellcat will turn you into a lycanthrope, a were-beast that undergoes a transformation into a half-and-half mix of human and beast during every full moon. An animal instinct with human cunning is a nasty combination. The bit about needing a silver weapon to kill a 'thrope is still true, and silver is very scarce these days. There's some who make a living out of hunting 'thropes. Mostly they sell the remains to the mages to use for their spells and whatnot.

I don't know what else to write. Nobody knows if this is as bad as it's gonna get, or if this is just the beginning of the cycle. Since any data from the last time magic was around has been reduced to faerie tales, there's no way to be certain. I hope people aren't so stupid this time around. That's why I'm writing this. This is no faerie tale. My fangs are real. My Hunger is real. Some unfortunate is gonna die tonight when I Change. And I can't do anything about it while the moon is up. May the Gods have mercy on his soul. And mine..?

Raster James Gracely, Son of Margaret Koslo Gracely
a.k.a. ShadowCat

17 August, 2047