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Summary
Dru-Zod wouldn't be able to explain why he kept coming to work every morning even if he was asked. Wouldn't be able to explain why he kept sitting in an empty office in an increasingly empty workblock, looking out through his mid-Strata-1 window at the squat grindr plants blocks beyond, their oily gray silos the final resting place of the dead, recycled for fuel. It's been two cycles since Zero Day, and Krypton still needs all the energy it could get to finish carving out its own grave-marker.