Show Pieces

Nothing will come of nothing; speak again.

— King Lear, demanding empty words for their own sake. It doesn’t end well for him.

What’s the Flux?

The name suggests continual change, warping into the unexpected and unpredictable. In practice, we see that what it actually does (most of the time) is reduce stuff to particles. People, spaceships, buildings, planets, all kinds of large and complex structures broken down into the smallest possible units – homogenous motes of dust. It’s a blob subsuming everything else into its indistinct mass.

Refusing to be outdone, the Flux even manages to atomise itself; the after-effects we see it leave in episodes 3 and 4 – barren, post-collapse wastelands – don’t seem consistent with its planet-dissolving behaviour in The Halloween Apocalypse. Disconnected ideas of its role float around, as dots, rather than forming part of a larger whole. It’s in this manner that the Flux achieves its greatest conquest: disintegrating the show it’s a part of. We can view this as a model for the entirety of Flux as a season.