Legends of the Flashback

It's all come down to this. The saga is finished. There will be no more. These three signature editions contain every Flashback story ever written (1993-2023), plus the latest and final stories: This Savage and Beautiful Night, For a Devil Has Fallen from the Sky, and The War-Torn Hills of Earth. More than just an omnibus, Legends of the Flashback ends the saga with a bang--everything is resolved, nothing is left out. All the characters and situations of the Flashback/Dinosaur Apocalypse come together in a trilogy that will close out and define the saga. Join Ank and Williams, the crew of Gargantua, the kids from Thunder Road, and more as they heed the call to adventure one last time and face the very architects of the Flashback! From Legends of the Flashback: "Okay, but …" A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair stepped out: Peter, the airline pilot. "It's all come down to what, exactly?" More shouts and upheaval, more chaos, more pandemonium —until Williams crouched and drew a spiral in the sand, tapped its center. "There. The Hollywood Hills. That's where our maze is at—that's the eye of the storm." Gasps and shocked utterances, muttering, disbelief. He stood and addressed the crowd. "Listen: don't ask me to explain all this because I can't, okay? I mean, Ank might be able to do it but unfortunately only I can hear him—so you're just going to have to take my word for it, or not at all. All I know is that that is the source of the vision and that we need to go there like, now, this eve—meaning that an advance team should set out even while the main column is being raised." He scanned the throng. "We'll need warriors. Who among you will travel with me even tonight? Red? Satanta?" "I travel alone," said Satanta, standing amidst the crowd sans warpaint. "But I will prepare Blucifer immediately and meet you in the hills." "And I'll oversee the armada," said Red. "It'll be just like when we defended against Szambelan." "I'm in," said Travis. "Once a Marine, always a Marine. Semper fi." "I'm in, too," said an albino girl that I knew only as Luna. "Because you're going to need me on this one. I can just feel it." Williams thought about it and then nodded. And then he climbed up Ank's tail and addressed everyone from the beast's back: "Hear me, hear me, men and woman of the free state of Montana! Know that—even as we've argued here today and debated over the vision and how best to respond to it, know that there have been others—hundreds, even thousands—elsewhere, who have been doing the same thing; and that it is in that that we may take comfort, for we need not even face the labyrinth alone. But alas, also know this: which is that when one side is summoned—so must be the other; and work as if there is no time at all—for indeed, there may not be. And may God be with—" But I was no longer there—no longer in the amphitheater at all—finding myself back on the beach in time for a sixth eye to open, to blink and clear the sleep from itself, to look on me like a mirror, like a speculum. To show me standing with three others before a great machine covered in tarps—a machine which had been mothballed, neglected, left out in the dust—a machine whose sleek front end could nonetheless be made out—and on whose silvery hull was printed a single word and number: Gargantua 1.