The Muffin Man waits. He’s not sure what he’s waiting for be he waits anyway. Juan Carlos watches and wait too for that moment when the Muffin Man can be awakened.

The Muffin Man’s life is busy with business. His days are filled with cooking. His nights are not always lonely.

Still…he is asleep, a ghost running through patterns of days and nights already lived. His is not quite alive and not quite dead. He has lost his way. He has lost the concept of a way, of more than this dream, of growth and understanding. He is asleep and he knows this.

Juan Carlos Boyaratov lurks in the shadows and waits. He knows his path, he knows his purpose. All his training and all his experience will lead him to the moment when he slaps the Muffin Man awake.

Until that time, Juan Carlos goes about his business, killing the people he’s paid to kill.

One waits for rebirth. One waits for redemption.

Gestation takes time and waiting.

Slowly, ever too slowly, forces gather, energies are stored, the sun’s gases race towards the center longing for the inevitable explosion and the resultant mystery.

Juan Carlos cannot see past that moment. He yearns to know, he is desperate to know, and yet contents himself with a whimsical hope an assassin rarely can afford.