Prologue: First Voice

"Jace knew better than to make sure each limb was polished to a sheen, each hair was tucked in place. He knew better than to move their hands gingerly, than to sing to them softly. For these writhing beings could not be deemed human. And the Wrinkled Ones loomed above, watching. Waiting, with their viridian-colored noggins tilted to the side. Jace believed the Wrinkled Ones to be omniscient."

The Wrinkled Ones loom over all in this artificial world. A world Moth phases through without connecting with anyone else. They consider it an unalterable fact of their inhumanness, but perhaps Moth's increasingly high dose of fear they inject into themself, one indicative of some dormant humanness.