Futile, my studies were not. It started with a shade of blue and an ever grande place, but it ended with far much more. I had linked the worlds of the death star and paradise, and unleashed a grave creature with form better not witnessed. Perhaps my work was best left unfinished.

Futile, his studies were. The gates between heaven and hell could not be controlled, but my unwelcome tool could be. Perhaps his work was best left never begun.

This time, Fabaceae will not be his main concern. And she will not be yours, either.

Beware of the Prof.