By the terms of my parole for life I am compelled to make a pilgrimage and walk the maze of the Urbanopolis to find my chamber every 7 years.. Plate 1: On this visit the complex did not look correct- I checked to see if it were real. It wasn't. It was best this way. Plate 2: Things became more familiar as I approached the entry channel. Once past this point there was no turning back. Plate 3: The shredding wall felt thick of sickening grease from the sweaty hands of other criminals who had backed along it for the millennia previous. Plate 4: The appearance of an opportunity to escape near the cell of my caste was a deadly illusion. Plate 5: I looked back at the soft, dull light after climbing down into the chamber. Plate 6: And turned to my corner to remain motionless and silent for 3 days and nights.