Aepoch, oblivious to the Death Squad now latex mummified in the ruined UTI security division, feels no relief, only anger. Years of research, gone. A lovely human converted to a divine latex form, gone. But her proxy priestess, still there and found in a drunken hangover, with both of her fore mentioned responsibilities missing? still here, and available to bear the brunt of Aepoch's frustration. Cast in a twice over mockery of the sacred clothing, Aeon was now encased in an obsolete form of Symbiotex, inflexible and nearly suffocating. Her shape was now a bitch, a mockery of the dog cast, reminding her of the recruit she lost.
But in spite of it all, it's just another day on this savage world, planet Earth. Nu-faiths come and go, and while The Order of Sacred Clothing endured for a while, it never reached the level of success as the Rubber Wolf Pack and it's enigmatic leader had.