During the same approximate period that Morrow first gave new life to Entropy Lad, halfway across the planet, Lilet Monteza was dealing with far more literal birth pains. The expectant mother was herself an aspiring writer, moved by the possible worlds envisioned by Madeleine L'Engle and Anne McCaffrey. However, at that point, she was more concerned about possibly raising a child solo, without having to give up on her MFA plans.

The childbirth proved to be rather ordinary. Lilet delivered her son without complication on Christmas Eve, 1992, and he was named Gabriel Garcia Monteza. The young mother considered it a small miracle for an infant to be given life at all during a year like that. Aside from the usual specter of a coup d'état, there were daily brownouts and a restive volcano spewing ash and lahar across Southeast Asia. There were even rumors of an ominous "dancing sun", like the one observed in Medjugore, Yugoslavia, fueling speculation about the End Times, or at least Three Days of Darkness.

Over the next few years, Lilet struggled through post-partum depression and financial issues. She resigned herself to a steady copywriting job in a run-of-the-mill advertising firm, as she maxed out her residency in grad school. Her academic papers on Philippine magical realism and Gilda Cordero-Fernando's "The Dust Monster" would take a backseat to hot dog slogans and pitches for snack cakes being marketed at school children.

Throughout this period, Lilet repeatedly tried connecting with her deadbeat Sperm Donor, as she began referring to him. The guy was a restless Fulbright scholar, who had long since returned to his comfortable tenure at a liberal arts college in the Pacific Northwest, unwilling to deal with the responsibility of the life he'd brought into the world. She lost track of the unreturned letters, ignored voicemails, and phone calls not answered. But she never quite gave up hope that he would come through.

As the century drew to a close, Lilet tentatively reconciled with her mother Lourdes, a dairy farm owner from Silang, Cavite. The grand dame was always known as "Lola Luds" to her staff. Now she finally lived up to the moniker, as she begrudgingly agreed to help raise Gabo, and even pay for his schooling.

Through Lola Luds' graciousness, Lilet was able to commit to a two-year fellowship at a university in Melbourne, focused on non-realist South East Asian fiction in English. That was it: new millennium, new goals, new life.

A few weeks after the World Trade Center buildings fell in New York, Lilet received a package at her desk in the faculty office with a note attached. The Sperm Donor's handwriting was unmistakable:

Life's too brief to be strangers. This reminded me of you. A peace offering?

Inside was a copy of Burning Down the House, the second volume of Gareth Morrow's The Esotericorps.

Lilet had heard of Morrow's work but she had never thought to look for it, at least not until she had finished reading Maus or Sandman or any of the other books regarded as part of the graphic novel canon.

The Esotericorps followed a ragtag cabal of misfits investigating paranormal conspiracies throughout the twentieth century. In this particular collection, there are covens of '50s housewives fighting against literal McCarthyist witch-hunters. Cookbooks double as grimoires and wire-tapped recordings expose Tupperware parties as blood rituals. Later in the book, the Corps recruits the ghost of Sylvia Plath to stop a corrupt advertising executive from brainwashing young consumers, even while police officers are still removing her physical body from the oven.

As middlebrow escapist fun goes, Lilet enjoyed it – a lot. It was exactly the kind of brain candy she needed, at that point. But it also reminded her about how little she had changed, even after everything she had been through. The Sperm Donor still knew just what tickled her fancy.

Nevertheless, she resolved to read more of Morrow's work. Perhaps she would even introduce it to Gabo one day, when he was old enough.