This page is particularly disheartening to me, not because of how horrible I was as an artist back then, but because it shows how horrible I have become as an artist now. Let us take a brief moment aside from our story to analyze the structure of the tale itself: Here we seem our lead character, cleverly titled 'The Bomb' to function as both a menacing code-name and amusing hip anachronism despite lack of all bombs on his presence, progress from lethargic tween into highly trained warrior AND end up in yet another dangerous, action packed predicament within the space of ONE PAGE. This type of expedient exposition coverage and plot acceleration shows a mastery of the narrative form as we know it now that I, as an adult, can only dream of once again harnessing. Damn you, younger me, damn you to ISS.