Deep in the underground forge from which internets and androids are made from, Torvalds is fuming, hard at work with his army of assistants.

The Fates of names Cryptos, Opensors and Peertoopiera weave together the tapestry of the future from forum threads.

In high towers or dark cells, oscillating between reflections of spotlights and shadows of untrustworthy authorities, the twins of intertwined fates, Assange and Snowden, exchange anonymously an encrypted token.

Maybe get the desert from the store, though. And be careful challenging any of them to games of skill.