Excerpts gothic fantasy Read an Excerpt From Innamorata by Ava Reid Once there was an island where the dead walked the earth, and seven noble houses ruled by the arcane secrets of necromancy. By Ava Reid | Published on February 24, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from Innamorata by Ava Reid, the first part of a dark gothic fantasy duology publishing with Del Rey on March 17. Once there was an island where the dead walked the earth, and seven noble houses ruled by the arcane secrets of necromancy.A conqueror’s blade brought them low, burning their libraries, killing their lords, and extinguishing their eldritch magic.But defiant against the new order stands the House of Teeth and its last living members: beautiful Marozia, the heiress to the House, and her cousin, the uncanny Lady Agnes.Though she has not spoken a word in seven years, Agnes is the true carrier of the House’s legacy. And she has her orders. She must recapture the secrets of death magic and avenge her family’s fallen honor. She must arrange the betrothal of her beloved cousin Marozia to Liuprand, heir to the conqueror’s throne, for access to the forbidden library in his grotesquely grand castle.Revenge burns in Agnes’s heart but so do stranger passions—and it is Liuprand, the golden prince, who speaks to her soul. This passion is as treasonous as it is powerful, poisoning the kingdom’s roots and threatening to tear the already shattered realm in two.For Agnes’s final order is the gravest: She must not fall in love. There was very little left of Adele-Blanche’s body now. None of what remained was the inheritance of any great house, yet by Article III of the Covenant, it all must be obliterated immediately. The Covenant also restricted the methods of expunging it: There could not be a pyre; vultures could not be permitted to feast upon it; it could not be sent out to sea; and, of course, it could not be buried. So here at last was the paramount duty of the Most Esteemed Surgeon. Both Swallow and Wrestbone helped the Surgeon down from his dais and allowed him to grip their arms for balance as he maneuvered toward the very last remains of their departed mistress. The Most Esteemed Surgeon wore heavy wooden clogs. Holding on to Swallow and Wrestbone, he stomped Adele-Blanche’s entrails into the mud. Thudding, squelching, like he was mashing grapes for wine, until the red matter of her grandmother was reduced to invisible bits and mixed with the dirt so as to be completely, utterly irretriev­able. The rain spent itself, and the clouds broke apart to show strips of hoary light. Marozia nudged Agnes meaningfully, and Agnes stepped down from the pew onto the sodden earth that infected her flesh with goosebumps. She raised a hand to help her cousin descend, and Marozia followed her down primly, nose wrinkling as her feet met the same cold ground. “Come on, come on,” Marozia urged. “He’s going to leave.” Marozia never rushed. This manner of locomotion did not befit a noble lady. But the impatience in her cousin’s voice had Agnes stum­bling forward, half tripping over her muddy skirts, desperately trying to blaze a trail for Marozia, newly anointed Mistress of Teeth. It would not do for Marozia to be observed faltering and fumbling. Particularly by Thrasamund, Master of Eyes, who, congruous to his title, had the perception of a carrion bird. He steepled his hands over his stomach and watched Agnes’s awkward efforts. Fortunately, the gray mass of guards did not move. Each stood as straight as an upright sword and, clad as they were in armor and mail, looked more metal than man. Agnes bent down to brush some of the mud from Marozia’s skirt, taking this moment to catch her breath. From inside the mass of sol­diers came a stately voice: “Part.” No sooner had the command left the mouth of their master than the guards each took one step to the side, forming a gap through which the prince was at last revealed. Agnes stood quickly, not wanting to be perceived in such a cowed position, but when she turned her eyes toward the prince, she had the sensation of being cowed twice over, in fact almost blinded. It was more so the contrast between the prince’s emanation and the dismal surroundings than anything innate to His Highness, though it could not be denied that he was an inordinately and surpassingly beautiful man. Gold was his hair, but a dark gold, like sunken treasure. His face appeared carved, with the adoring, if not slightly lascivious, ministrations of a master sculptor, one who took great care in shaping its aquiline nose and august brow, who caressed the statue’s high, prominent cheekbones as though it were a lover. He wore a doublet of midnight blue, banded with opulent braids of gold, a cape held to his shoulders with gilded epaulets. The prince trod the path created for him by the Dolorous Guard and stopped be­fore Agnes and Marozia. With this proximity, Agnes could properly appreciate his stature. He was of a greater height even than Thrasa­mund, but he had none of the latter’s adipose indulgence. His broad figure was led by bone and muscle rather than by fat and flesh. And with the grace that Thrasamund had ascribed to him earlier, he smiled down at his subjects. “My good ladies,” he said. “I did not have the occasion to meet your grandmother, but I grieve the loss of such a distinguished woman.” “Thank you, Your Highness,” Marozia said. “I will endeavor to fill her slippers.” “It is a great honor to meet the new Mistress of Teeth so early in her incumbency.” He turned and looked Agnes directly in the face. “And who else do I have the pleasure of meeting today?” He was Liuprand, eldest and only son of Nicephorus the Slug­gard, heir to the throne of Drepane, already well loved by his sub­jects, already affixed with half a dozen potential epithets: the Golden, the Great, the Just, the Illustrious, the Fair, the Ready. He had no reason to know her. “My dear cousin,” said Marozia, touching the small of her back. “Agnes.” “Agnes,” Liuprand repeated. “You must be mourning the great old woman as well. I have heard she was especially attached to her grand­children. How is your heart?” Buy the Book Innamorata Ava Reid Buy Book Innamorata Ava Reid Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget “Aggrieved, Your Highness, of course,” Marozia said. She gave Agnes’s back a soothing pat. “But your attendance honors our house and warms our cold spirits.” The smallest of furrows ran along Liuprand’s noble brow. His eyes left Agnes briefly, flickered to Marozia, then returned to her. “And you, Lady Agnes?” The bile of nervousness rose in her throat. The prince’s gaze was not malicious, but it was probing. Quickly, before the silence could stretch on too unpleasantly, Marozia took her hand. “Aggrieved as well, Your Highness,” she said. Her voice was smooth, cloaking any strangeness the prince might have observed. It would not do to have him unnerved or suspicious. They were meant to be mend­ing the bridges Adele-Blanche had broken, treating the old wounds she had inflicted, draining the moats she had dug around the House of Teeth. When still Liuprand regarded Agnes in that rather puzzled manner, Marozia hastened to say, “But she, too, is cheered by your presence.” “I am glad,” he said, finally lifting his eyes from Agnes’s face. The furrow, however, did not disappear from his brow. “Perhaps when your grief is not so fresh, we may discuss the future of your house’s rela­tionship to the Crown.” A joyful flush filled Marozia’s cheeks. “Yes,” she said. “I would like that very much.” “I mean no disrespect to your grandmother’s memory, of course. But with the House of Teeth under the purview of a new mistress, there may be a path forward yet untrodden.” “It is to be my first act as Mistress of Teeth,” Marozia said. She squeezed Agnes’s hand in a very significant way that almost hurt. “If it please Your Highness, I will visit Castle Crudele within the month to discuss these arrangements.” “It would please me very much, Lady Marozia.” Liuprand nodded at her. And then he looked to Agnes again. His eyes were a water-bright blue but seemingly without depths, such that they reflected her own countenance back at her. These two cerulean mirrors showed a blanched oval face, thin dark eyebrows, and imperturbable lips. “Lady Agnes.” She dipped her head in acknowledgment and performed a half curtsy. It was a perfect gesture that would have pleased her grand­mother enormously. Acquiescent enough to satisfy the superior being, yet still withholding complete submission. As he turned, the Dolorous Guard were inspired to life again, form­ing a phalanx around the prince. Now only the crown of his golden head could be seen, rising atop the bobbing gray helmets. He was es­corted into the waiting carriage, which was made of a splendorous soldered metal that seemed not to show the mud that must have ac­cumulated on its wheels and its belly as it clambered up the mountain to Castle Peake. Marozia was standing on her tiptoes to watch his departure, one hand braced on Agnes’s shoulder. Agnes stood flat on her feet and felt the mist creep around her with a cold, solicitous grip. On the top step of the carriage, Liuprand looked back. He had a curiously unimposing gaze for a prince. It was an intense gaze, to be sure, but it did not demand. It seemed merely to ask. And for a reason Agnes could not comprehend, his gaze lay not upon the black tree branches that fingered into the flat gray air, nor upon the mud pit that contained her grandmother’s infinitesimal matter, nor upon beautiful Marozia in the deep-red gown that impressed her on the world like a passionate stain of blood, but upon her. Silent, grim Lady Agnes, wearing bruise-colored silk. His stare could not have rested there for more than a quarter min­ute, yet it felt the length of hours. Then without warning, Liuprand ducked into the carriage, and a member of the Dolorous Guard stepped forward to close the door behind him. Innamorata copyright © 2026 by Ava Reid. Used by permission of Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. All rights reserved. Cannot be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. The post Read an Excerpt From <i>Innamorata</i> by Ava Reid appeared first on Reactor.

News Spider-Man Sony’s Spider-Man Universe Is Dead. Long Live Sony’s Spider-Man Universe Sony Pictures’ CEO confirmed that the Spider-Man Universe will be rebooted By Vanessa Armstrong | Published on February 24, 2026 Screenshot: Sony/Marvel Comment 0 Share New Share Screenshot: Sony/Marvel Even after the box office (and critical) horrors of Morbius, Madame Web, and Kraven the Hunter, it’s not surprising that Sony can’t quit making more Spider-Man films: the IP is just too big! But given those major Sony Spider-Man flops, it’s even less surprising that the powers that be at the company want to wipe the slate clean and start anew. Tom Rothman, the CEO of Sony Pictures, effectively said as much during an interview on The Town (via /Film). Rothman confirmed that the live-action Spider-Man Universe is not dead, but when host Matt Belloni asked if the universe would be a “fresh reboot” with “new people,” Rothman agreed in the affirmative. (Rothman also joked that Belloni should audition for the Marvel character they own called Mr. Negativity when the host called the agreement for Disney’s Marvel to have Spider-Man in their Cinematic Universe a “tail between the legs” moment for Sony, but I digress.) When will we see a new Sony Spider-Man Universe? It’s unclear, but Rothman had this to say about the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s recent downswing, which seems relevant here. “Scarcity has value—you’ve got to have the audience miss you.” I don’t know if time will make me fonder of Jared Leto’s Morbius, but with the clean slate Rothman is promising, it sounds like that won’t be a problem. [end-mark] The post Sony’s Spider-Man Universe Is Dead. Long Live Sony’s Spider-Man Universe appeared first on Reactor.

News God of War Ed Skrein to Play Baldur in God of War Prime Video Series The news suggests more than one game will be pulled from for the Prime Video show By Vanessa Armstrong | Published on February 24, 2026 Ed Skrein photo credit: Bob Wolfenson; Baldur image courtesy of Sony Interactive Entertainment Comment 0 Share New Share Ed Skrein photo credit: Bob Wolfenson; Baldur image courtesy of Sony Interactive Entertainment The cast for Prime Video’s God of War series is expanding. Today, the streamer announced that Ed Skrein (Jurassic World Rebirth, Rebel Moon, Alita: Battle Angel) will take on the role of Baldur. Here’s a description of the character, for those not familiar with the games: Baldur may be the youngest son of Odin, but he’s his father’s most dangerous weapon. Charismatic, unpredictable and armed with a razor-sharp tongue, Baldur lives by his own rules. As a boy, Baldur was cursed; this curse denied him the ability to feel pleasure and physical sensation. This fuels an insatiable anger and bloodlust in Baldur, who favors a brawling fighting style that blends his immense power with the raw impact of his fists. Above all else, he longs for an opponent that can truly match his prowess in battle. An opponent that can finally make him feel something. The inclusion of Baldur in the Prime Video series strongly suggests that the show will initially focus on the events from the 2018 PlayStation 4 game, God of War, and that Baldur will serve as the series’ antagonist, at least early on. It also means that we might not see much of Thor and Odin (played by Ólafur Darri Ólafsson and Mandy Patinkin respectively) until later in the season, as those characters were more prominently featured 2022’s God of War Ragnarök. Or, perhaps more likely, showrunner Ronald D. Moore has added some scenes or moved the storyline around, so we see Thor and Odin earlier. Skrein, who also will appear in Simon West’s World War II espionage action-adventure film Fortitude with Ben Kingsley and Nicolas Cage, joins a stacked cast. In addition to Ólafsson and Patinkin, the show also includes Ryan Hurst as Kratos, Callum Vinson as Atreus, Max Parker as Heimdall, Teresa Palmer as Sif, Alastair Duncan as Mimir, Jeff Gulka as Sindri, and Danny Woodburn as Brok. No news yet on when we’ll see God of War on Prime Video. [end-mark] The post Ed Skrein to Play Baldur in <i>God of War</i> Prime Video Series appeared first on Reactor.

Books Seeds of Story Terrible Bosses, Evil Corporations, and Paperclip Maximizers: Dan Davies’ The Unaccountability Machine Exploring broken systems, and why and how people seek to avoid accountability, even when it also involves avoiding power and agency. By Ruthanna Emrys | Published on February 24, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share Welcome to Seeds of Story, where I explore the non-fiction that inspires—or should inspire—speculative fiction. Every couple weeks, we’ll dive into a book, article, or other source of ideas that are sparking current stories, or that have untapped potential to do so. Each article will include an overview of the source(s), a review of its readability and plausibility, and highlights of the best two or three “seeds” found there. This week, I cover Dan Davies’ The Unaccountability Machine: Why Big Systems Make Terrible Decisions—and How the World Lost Its Mind. This is the most fascinating book on management that you’ll ever read: It will help you write believably terrible bosses, understand your own terrible workplace, and figure out what keeps going wrong with the Jedi. What It’s About The Unaccountability Machine is in some ways a spiritual sequel to Seeing Like a State. It combines the idea of legibility with mid-20th-century cybernetics (not actually about computers—more on that in a moment) to explain the eternal tug-of-war between a complex world and the need to make decisions about that complexity. Done right, this is the collective equivalent of mental rules of thumb: simplifications that produce good-enough decisions in a useful amount of time, while acknowledging that the decisions are imperfect and the process can be improved. Done wrong… well, we have plenty of examples to go around, don’t we? “Cybernetics” comes from the Greek word for a helmsman—steering a ship being a classic example of circular feedback and adjustment between world and decision maker. It’s the study of how organizations steer themselves to reach goals, based on feedback from the rest of the world. The world is always more complex than the organizational system, because it’s larger and contains more factors; management therefore depends on matching the level of management complexity (data processing and analytic capacity) to input from the world. This match can be achieved by increasing management capacity or decreasing the complexity of input—the latter is what Scott is talking about, while the former requires spending money on education, hiring, and resources. Davies waxes… eloquent… on the topic of organizations finding ways to avoid increasing capacity. (This is a delightfully rude book, and doesn’t hold back on its opinions of overly rigid management, management consultants, economists, and anyone else responsible for problems despite their best efforts to avoid responsibility.) Simplification doesn’t just make management feel easier while increasing errors, however. One major way that organizations simplify is by reducing decisions to preexisting rules or algorithms. This has some advantages—a manager who must follow specific rules during hiring is constrained from, e.g., making decisions based on who they want to golf with. A major disadvantage, though—from the perspective of everyone but the organization—is that it places the responsibility for decisions with the process, and not with individual humans. It’s an accountability sink. No one at the insurance company is responsible for rejecting your life-saving medicine, they’re just following the rules. All loan decisions are made based on the same opaque credit score calculations. Companies that follow Milton Friedman’s assertion that (in Davies’ words) “when companies act in the interests of society instead of their shareholders, they take on the role of government” can cut all non-financial concerns—and indeed financial externalities that don’t affect their shareholders—out of their management processes, vastly simplifying the system they have to deal with and also possibly destroying the planet. Davies describes classical economics (rudely, see above) as a tool for this kind of simplification. Homo economicus—the perfectly rational and self-interested individual assumed in classical calculations—doesn’t exist but is easy to make decisions about. These economic decisions serve zero real Homo sapiens, but make very pretty graphs and excellent accountability sinks. Friedman’s doctrine also “invited [managers] to… attribute all the bad consequences and all the frustrating lack of independence to a separate work-self, which was under obligation to a simple principle.” Which is to say: it’s right and proper to leave your ethics at the office door along with your umbrella. Markets make information about certain types of needs and resources highly legible. They also, taken to this logical extreme, undermine the many parts of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness that are challenging to quantify and monetize. Over the course of the past 40-odd years (not thinking too hard about how long ago Reagan was elected), this problem has expanded so that even many financial concerns are simplified out. Quarterly shareholder reports prioritize short-term over long-term advantage, because a lack of short-term advantage invites hostile takeovers, where the private equity industry vampirically sucks all resources out of a long-term stable company that didn’t make Number Go Up. Short-term costs thus become more important than long-term revenues, creating incentives to reduce systematic safety cushions (e.g., extra labor to handle surge periods and keep workloads manageable). Quoth Davies, “If you consistently demand the impossible, you will inevitably get the unethical.” Davies argues for a change to the overall societal and legal expectations placed on organizations: to allow “that [they] can be like people, having purposes without a single goal.” “Businesses,” he says, “ought to be like artists, not paperclip maximizers.” He identifies places where we currently push them to overweight certain types of signal and ignore others, and where accountability sinks cause the most trouble—these are the points of greatest leverage for fixing the system. Buy the Book The Unaccountability Machine Dan Davies Why Big Systems Make Terrible Decisions—and How the World Lost Its Mind Buy Book The Unaccountability Machine Dan Davies Why Big Systems Make Terrible Decisions—and How the World Lost Its Mind Why Big Systems Make Terrible Decisions—and How the World Lost Its Mind Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget In addition to being a nerd, I am also a wonk. I have been known to squee about six-month efforts to make surveys fit the requirements of the Paperwork Reduction Act, and love books with titles like The Meetings That Make or Break Your Organization (unlikely to show up in this column, but you never know). The Unaccountability Machine hits my sweet spot of “Ooh, that’s why that project went wrong—oh, I could do this with my team—the Jedi have really screwed up their complexity matching processes—what if the evil empire used this policy?—no, no, do not do that with your large language model—here’s how a future society could sink even more accountability!” In other words, this is a particularly valuable book for readers who geek about lots of different systems that involve people. It offers a set of new-old tools for thinking through what makes governments, companies, and school boards screw up, turn evil, or occasionally manage to accomplish useful goals. It’s full of plot bunnies that double as life hacks. And it’s a whole ’nother way of imagining how (and why) actual people might use new technologies. What are the policies supporting that torment nexus? Who uses it to escape blame for the torment, and how? What regretfully reasonable justifications fill Op Ed pieces? I particularly appreciate that the book ends with actual solutions. In some cases, I also like the solutions—yes, please, break the whole private equity system, it needs it! On the other hand, Davies suggests (in a throwaway paragraph that I suspect reflects a last-minute editorial demand to talk about AI) that LLMs are a good way to reduce incoming environmental variability. I hope we have all seen by now that they are a great accountability sink for doing so, with results that range from mediocre to disastrous. This same chapter suggests that managers should have room to be more like artists, leveraging their own individual variability to produce outcomes they can be proud of. LLMs are the opposite thing. (Looking at Davies’ newsletter archives, he seems to have since gotten more nuanced in his ideas of what LLMs are good for, and our post-book disagreements would make for a whole separate post.) But overall, the book is just full of useful frameworks. “Criminogenic organizations” with incentives and policies that ensure—deliberately or otherwise—that the system will output crimes1. “The extent to which you are able to change a decision is precisely the extent to which you can be accountable for it.” How politicians use “the market” as an accountability sink. “People who want to break the link to human decision makers and treat the books of law as a source of algorithmic judgment are called fundamentalists. Or… strict constructionists.” The biggest insight I got from this book, though, is a framework for why and how people seek to avoid accountability, even when it also involves avoiding power and agency. We have set up a system that teaches people to be afraid of responsibility. My most serious fear about LLMs is that they magnify this fear: that it feels safe to create art and communication that don’t come with pesky human judgments. Many people will go along with immoral orders—Milgram’s experiments suggest between 5-80% depending on incentives, apparent authority, and how easily you can see the harm you’re doing2. But all LLMs will do so, and they are unlikely to blow whistles afterwards. Plus the source of the output is conveniently separate from the entity getting paid. There is an advantage, to a paperclip optimizer, in discouraging humans from thinking too hard about our ability to distinguish right from wrong, make choices accordingly, and tell stories that flow messily and unpredictably from individual conscience. They’ll happily use machine learning to reduce that variability—but they build on all the other accountability sinks that have been used for the same purpose. The Best Seeds for Speculative Stories It Doesn’t Take an AI. Davies quotes Charlie Stross’ 2017 gloss of corporations as “very old, very slow AIs.” They are much like the feared failure mode of nanotechnology. Given an absurdly high level of resources and one overarching goal, a hypothetical nanobot told to prioritize paperclip production could eventually turn everything into paperclips. This sort of apocalyptic warning about future tech masks what already exists: large, inhuman entities that do their best to turn everything into quarterly profits, “and appear to be unable to change course even when faced with the imminent extinction of human life.” Cybernetics lays out the structures through which corporations, despite being full of humans, consistently produce these inhuman results. These explanations are useful both when trying to stop them, and when trying to write about scary megacorporations. A Different Cyberpunk. The route by which “cybernetics” was applied to management, misparsed, and used to produce the modern “cyber-“ prefix is long and tortuous. But good cyberpunk does tend to feature both computers and corporations, and integrating some real management science into those corporations could make them more effective, realistic, and dramatic villains. New Growth: What Else to Read James C. Scott’s Seeing Like a State, along with the further readings I recommended for that book, remain entwined with Davies’ work. Nguyen’s The Score, in particular, feels like the third volume of this unofficial trilogy, focusing on the simplified measures that feed Davies’ unaccountability machines. Victoria Goddard’s The Hands of the Emperor is about trying to collect the right information to make government good. It’s also kind of about what would happen if you put the Omelas kid in charge of the city. Arkady Martine’s A Memory Called Empire and its sequel are a gorgeous depiction of imperial politics written by someone who knows how policy and management work. I am not actually a fan of most classic cyberpunk—the internet in those works is much duller and less scary than the one we got—but adore William Gibson’s Pattern Recognition, which mixes the aesthetics of cyberpunk with the fractal complexity of the real world, and therefore better explores the ratcheting incentives that draw people into inhuman systems. Marge Piercy’s He, She, and It is cyberpunk by the person who originally inspired the subgenre (in a brief scene from Woman on the Edge of Time), and is serious both about the complexity of society and the inhumanity of corporations. Malka Older’s Infomocracy shows how informational input enables different types of governance—and also has ninja fact-checkers. Share your thoughts on paperclip maximizing workplaces—or your recommendations for cool policy SF—in the comments below3! Simple example: in DC a while back, metro line inspectors were evaluated based on quotas that could not be met by doing thorough, accurate safety checks. Results are left as an exercise for the reader—and for the inspectors, who consistently solved the exercise as you’d expect. ︎I can’t find an online summary of Milgram’s full set of experiments, only of the most famous one with the “victim” in the next room but audible, and 60-65% compliance. So these figures are approximate and based on my memory of his book. What I recall is that if the victim is present and visible, 90+% of people will refuse orders and often physically intervene if the experimenter tries to continue with shocks. And if the victim can’t be heard at all, most people will follow orders to the end. ︎Or if you, like my wife, want to argue with me about whether the Jedi took negative feedback that much better than Darth Vader. ︎The post Terrible Bosses, Evil Corporations, and Paperclip Maximizers: Dan Davies’ <i>The Unaccountability Machine</i> appeared first on Reactor.

News For All Mankind Earth and Mars Are Not Getting Along So Great In For All Mankind‘s Season 5 Trailer Things always get weird when your alt-history approaches the present By Molly Templeton | Published on February 24, 2026 Image: Apple TV Comment 0 Share New Share Image: Apple TV Apple’s alt-history space race series For All Mankind is getting closer and closer to the present day (whether or not it makes any sense in how it’s doing that is a different matter). In the upcoming fifth season, it’s 2012, which presumably explains the unfortunate song choice. Lots of cool things are happening on Mars! And Earth doesn’t like it. Here’s the synopsis: Season five of For All Mankind picks up in the 2010s, years since the Goldilocks asteroid heist. Happy Valley has grown into a thriving colony with thousands of residents and a base for new missions that will take us even further into the solar system. But with the nations of Earth now demanding law and order on the Red Planet, friction continues to build between the people who live on Mars and their former home. There are several loaded, meaningful lines intoned in this trailer, including one about change coming from “a few determined individuals.” You can also draw a straight line from Gandalf to Edi Gathegi saying “At a certain point, you have to ask yourself, ‘What do I want to do with the time I have left?'” There are also some interesting hints about massive discoveries and not losing one’s humanity. (It is impossible to watch a For All Mankind trailer and not think about co-creator Ronald D. Moore’s other space show, Battlestar Galactica.) Along with Gathegi, the show’s returning cast includes Joel Kinnaman, Toby Kebbell, Cynthy Wu, Coral Peña, and Wrenn Schmidt; new faces this time around include Mireille Enos (The Killing), Costa Ronin (The Americans), Sean Kaufman (The Summer I Turned Pretty), Ruby Cruz (Bottoms), and Ines Asserson (Royalteen). For All Mankind is created by Moore, Matt Wolpert, and Ben Nedivi. The fifth season premieres March 27 on Apple TV.[end-mark] The post Earth and Mars Are Not Getting Along So Great In <i>For All Mankind</i>‘s Season 5 Trailer appeared first on Reactor.