The black liquid covers the floor, and then, like a breaching whale, she breaks through, showering black liquid from her fins, from the swords and the spears embedded in her back. Her head strikes the ceiling with a terrible crash and it buckles, her fins swipe closets into splinters and piles of shredded cloth as she groans, turning.
i can't she says, her eye shining from behind a grill of gnashing, articulated teeth. i can't stop—we have to try please i have to try
it's the only way her voice reverberates, a great bridge collapsing under its own weight, cables snapping, concrete crumbling it's the only way
Howling wind.
my death is your freedom. i can't give up, but—
The walls give way, and outside there is a red sky, there is a horrible storm, there is a vortex. Judgement strains against its pull, her metal bones screaming.
if you can't then i'll find something that will i will create the tool of my own destruction, and you
do not come back.
A titanic chunk of rock comes hurtling out of the nothingness and smashes into her side, denting it, and then, silently, she falls spinning upwards into the red light. Black rain pours after her, and lightning flashes through the pain-streaked clouds, and the vision ends like a plug being torn from its sockets.
On the floor of the dressing room, empty and untouched, a single black feather too large to belong to any bird rests, dripping oily liquid as it dissolves.
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i can't she says, her eye shining from behind a grill of gnashing, articulated teeth. i can't stop—we have to try please i have to try
it's the only way her voice reverberates, a great bridge collapsing under its own weight, cables snapping, concrete crumbling it's the only way
Howling wind.
my death is your freedom. i can't give up, but—
The walls give way, and outside there is a red sky, there is a horrible storm, there is a vortex. Judgement strains against its pull, her metal bones screaming.
if you can't then i'll find something that will i will create the tool of my own destruction, and you
do not come back.
A titanic chunk of rock comes hurtling out of the nothingness and smashes into her side, denting it, and then, silently, she falls spinning upwards into the red light. Black rain pours after her, and lightning flashes through the pain-streaked clouds, and the vision ends like a plug being torn from its sockets.
On the floor of the dressing room, empty and untouched, a single black feather too large to belong to any bird rests, dripping oily liquid as it dissolves.