All smarm aside, this is the closest The Wild Hunt gets to resonance. Morrison has been mining the sense of horror that comes with the realisation that no plan survives contact with the world for a decade plus now, and it still works here, played out in rictus-Mahnkeface. It's just that what we see here has so little to do with anything that follows that the effect is wasted, revealed to be little more than a performative reflex.


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