Two years have passed. Phono's attempts to writhe himself away from his valuelessness has proven all for naught. Despite his ambulating to parts anew and the aging of his forme, still he finds himself stuck in the throes of his own debt of mind, the stores of his mental account now plummeting deep into the negatives.
Carved still with the symbols of those who would never regard him, Phono once again seeks out the bear; with the still-held belief that only its claws are capable of puncturing the varicose swelling of potential boiling within him and bringing an end to the torment caused by his stagnant, frustrated meandering.
But the bear has expanded its dominion much in the two years since; expansions of which threaten to halt Phono on his assured path to ideation. Surely there could be some compromise...