Where it rolled, unfortunately, was into space. Or what passed for space now. It was hard to tell with all the feathers and righteous clucking. Turns out, chickens had finally had enough. After millennia of mockery, farming, and greasy deaths, they’d built a vengeance-fleet and declared war on the edible. Lorgnette, conscripted mid-flee by a desperate colonel named Clucksworth, found himself manning the weapons of a deep-fryer-powered starcruiser.

He wasn’t bad at it. In fact, he rather enjoyed blasting sentient omelettes out of orbit and shouting “SHELL SHOCKED!” at traumatised poultry. But the more he fought, the more he remembered. There was something... egg-shaped in his past. A thing he’d tried to forget. The gloves, silent for once, merely tightened their grip as Lorgnette watched a rogue chicken escape into a wormhole, trailing feathers and secrets behind it. Something inside him screamed: Follow it.

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