ΡΞЯΡΞTUΛ.ЅΞQ The eternal one. The fall as it has always been and will always be. The figure sits inside the descent without contesting it. Arms turned outward. Hands open. The face refuses to register what is happening because what is happening has no end to register against. There is no impact to brace for. There is no ground to meet. Only the green and the magenta moving across the body as the body moves through nothing. This is the fall stripped of event. No crisis, no resolution, no before, no after. The image renders only the middle, which is the only place anyone has ever been. ΡΞЯΡΞTUΛ.ЅΞQ is the anchor of the series. The state from which the others depart and to which they return.