“Marcel?” she whispered. Confused and overwhelmed she somehow expected him to respond. Something in her believed in that moment that he would be laying beside her, that he would comfort her and tell her not to fear. Her soft voice simply echoed off the walls of the darkened Celestial Heliograph and she blinked her eyes suddenly realizing that she was, in fact, awake.
And realizing that- she knew all was lost.
“I’ve failed,” she whispered, her body becoming cold and numb.
The tiny golden piece of metal she had held for so long fell from stunned hand and onto the cold stone of the floor. With a flash of green light it rolled out of sight and was gone. In the gloom of the stillness around her, she pulled her small feet in and tucked her knees under her chin. Her platform was no longer bathed in light, the mirrors unable to realign and reflect through her. She sat as small and helpless as a child and wept.
The image of her lover Marcel drifting alone and likely dead. The memory of the golden cog that he had protected and that was their future, sinking into the filth of Kronos’ lair. These images drew the life from her, the strength of her heart within her almost extinguished. She had once believed that should they ever be truly parted, the realms would end. Now she felt the worse fate, that it had continued on despite being lost -and somehow she had to keep going.
Silver tears fell in an endless stinging stream that mixed with the blood from her soft cheek and stained her gown.