[COLOR=#a9a9a9][b][sup][u][i][u]Earlier that day, Harper's room[/u][/i][/u][/sup][/b][/color]

[indent][color=#a9a9a9]Harper fumbled with the zipper of her duffel bag, her fingers trembling as she tried to trace the jagged line of the fabric. The smooth metal teeth felt unfamiliar, alien beneath her unseen touch. Packing in her current state was more difficult than she’d anticipated—everything took twice as long, and the once simple act of gathering her things now felt like a battle. Without her sight, every task demanded more concentration, more patience, neither of which she had in abundance today. All the while, her phone sat on the desk beside her, the bright glow of the screen casting faint shadows in the corner of her awareness as Sierra’s voice occasionally broke through the quiet.[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]It was the first time they had spoken since the chaos of the dance. On the surface, their conversation was casual, as if they were simply catching up like they used to. Yet, beneath their words, something simmered, a truth Harper was still hesitating to confront with her life at PRCU now crumbling at her feet. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]In less than 24 hours, to be exact, she would leave this island behind—leave behind the life she thought she’d been building for herself since last year. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Harper’s hands continued to shake as she struggled to fold a pair of jeans into the bag, her breath coming out in small, frustrated huffs. Her movements were jerky, uncoordinated, and each time she tried to smooth the fabric, it seemed to bunch up under her fingers. She couldn’t even see if it was straight, couldn’t tell if it was folded right. All she had was the sensation of cloth slipping between her fingers, stubbornly refusing to cooperate. The frustration gnawed at her, digging under her skin, but she bit it back, unwilling to let Sierra hear how much she was struggling. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Regardless. [/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“You’d think I’d have gotten the hang of this by now,” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]Harper grumbled, the attempt at humour falling flat. There was a bit of raspiness still in her voice, though things were improving daily in that department. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“Packing while blind? Apparently, [/color][i][color=#8a9a5b]not [/color][/i][color=#8a9a5b]in my skill set.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Sierra’s voice crackled through the speaker, soft but clear. [/color][color=#fb0207]“You don’t have to do it alone, Harps. I could come back… help you if you want.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]For a minute, Harper froze, her hand still gripping the jeans. The offer sounded sincere enough, though she knew better than to take it at face value. Sierra had always been good at sounding sincere, at saying the right things, but Harper couldn’t remember the last time her sister had actually followed through. It was all just words, the brunette told herself. She scoffed, shaking her head despite knowing Sierra couldn’t see her. [/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“You’ve already left. Besides, I’m fine.” [/color]

[color=#fb0207]“I’m not that far,” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]Sierra replied, her voice more persistent this time.[/color][color=#fb0207] “I can take the ferry back and-”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Harper pressed her lips into a thin line, her fingers clenching around the denim in her hand, knuckles pale from the pressure. “[/color][b][color=#8a9a5b]No.[/color][/b][color=#8a9a5b]”[/color][color=#a9a9a9]The reply came out shorter, harsher than she’d intended, yet she didn’t bother trying to lighten it. She didn’t want Sierra here—not now, not when everything was spiralling out of control, and especially not when she knew Sierra didn’t truly mean it. If she had meant it, she wouldn’t have left in the first place.[/color][color=#8a9a5b] “I’ve got it. I can handle it.” [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]She tossed the jeans into the duffel, not caring if they were folded properly anymore.[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Harper could almost hear Sierra taking a second to think, deliberating her next words and deciding whether or not to push. It felt like they were standing on the edge of something—one wrong step, and they’d both fall.[/color]

[color=#fb0207]“How are you doing?”[/color][color=#a9a9a9] she asked finally, her voice gentler this time, like she was testing the waters. [/color][color=#fb0207]“Really.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Harper gritted her teeth, her hands balling into fists at her sides. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“Oh, it’s nothing really,” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]she muttered, her voice thick with sarcasm. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“Just thinking about my nice little chat with our dear sister about, you know, losing her wings. The usual freak bullshit.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]She didn’t need to see Sierra’s face to know she wasn’t surprised by the jab, not entirely. Her sister had a way of getting under people’s skin without remorse, and Harper knew this conversation would be no different. It was Sierra who had dropped the bomb about their parentage on Haven—without a second thought, apparently. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Of course, she wasn’t going to be apologetic. [/color]

[color=#fb0207]“That was never your secret to keep,”[/color][color=#a9a9a9] Sierra said after a minute, her voice calm, almost detached. [/color][color=#fb0207]“She had a right to know.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Harper let out a harsh laugh, the sound bitter and shrill. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“Oh, come on, Sierra. You didn’t tell Haven because you cared about her. You did it because you were pissed at me for not telling you sooner. You wanted to hurt me, and you knew exactly how to do it.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Harper could practically feel Sierra's restraint through the phone, the way she held back the smug retort that was probably perched on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t like her to play the concerned sister—that part of Sierra had died a long time ago. No, this was all about control, and Harper had handed it to her on a silver platter one too many times. [/color]

[color=#fb0207]“I’m not the one who can’t stop lying here, pretending to be some righteous person that, in case it ain't clear, you’re [/color][i][color=#fb0207]not,[/color][/i][color=#fb0207]” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]Sierra eventually replied. [/color][color=#fb0207]“This is on you, Harper. Don’t act like this was some grand betrayal. I just set the record straight.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Each word was like a drop of ice on Harper’s skin. [/color][color=#a9a9a9][i]Set the record straight? Of course,[/i][/color][color=#a9a9a9] Sierra would think she was doing Haven and her a favour by blowing up their lives. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]There was a long silence between them, the kind that usually followed one of their petty arguments. Harper could almost picture Sierra on the other end of the line, arms crossed, completely unfazed, waiting for her little sister to tire herself out. It was the same dance they had always done—Sierra pushing buttons, Harper reacting, until one of them walked away.[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]But this time, Harper didn’t want to walk away. Not like she had when Sierra had discovered what she was. Not like she had when Haven had first met her eldest sister. [/color]

[sub][color=#8a9a5b]“A mission…”[/color][/sub][color=#a9a9a9] Harper started, her voice barely above a whisper, like the thought had slipped out before she could catch it. She turned the word over in her mind, chewing on it, her frustration shifting into something greater, more focused. [/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“But what did Amma’s mission have to do with you?”[/color]

[right][i][color=#8a9a5b]What aren’t you telling me?[/color][/i][/right]

[color=#8a9a5b]“You were there, on the balcony, when that [/color][i][color=#8a9a5b]thing[/color][/i][color=#8a9a5b] mentioned it,” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]Harper pressed, her voice hardening as the puzzle pieces started to align, though she didn’t fully know the shape of the picture yet. The only thing she was sure of was one thing: Sierra was not innocent in this. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“He looked at you. So don’t even bother to act like you weren’t part of whatever the hell Amma was doing before coming here.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Sierra’s response was maddeningly calm, as if Harper’s new accusations barely ruffled her.[/color][color=#fb0207] “I didn’t know about her ‘mission,’ Harper. Whatever Amma was wrapped up in, I wasn’t involved. I stayed out of that mess.” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]The words slid from her mouth so smoothly that Harper could almost believe her. Except not quite.[/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“Right. You didn’t know about her mission,” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]Harper repeated, a slight mocking lilt in her tone. She reached down, fumbling for her water bottle on the desk, her fingers brushing over the cold surface. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“But you[/color][i][color=#8a9a5b] knew[/color][/i][color=#8a9a5b] who Amma was.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]It wasn’t a question. Harper let the words hang there, a quiet dare for Sierra to correct her. And sure enough, there was something different—a lull, just a fraction too long.[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Sierra’s silence, this time, said more than her words ever could.[/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“I see,”[/color][color=#a9a9a9] Harper said slowly, leaning into the moment. She opened the water bottle, taking a long sip both to clear the itch in her throat and to give her time to really think this over. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“So you knew Amma. [/color][color=#8a9a5b][i]That’s[/i][/color][color=#8a9a5b] why it looked at you. And you’re telling me you had [/color][color=#8a9a5b][i]no[/i][/color][color=#8a9a5b] clue what she was doing?”[/color]

[color=#fb0207]“She was supposed to kill me.” [/color]


[color=#a9a9a9]….[/color]


[color=#a9a9a9]Harper froze, her mind tripping over the admission. The casual drop of a bomb she might have guessed but genuinely hadn’t seen coming. [/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“I—what?” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]she stammered, her voice cracking as she grasped for clarity. Almost helplessly, she searched for any possible contradictions and, finding only one, pointed it out. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“But she went after [/color][i][color=#8a9a5b]me. [/color][/i][color=#8a9a5b]Not you.” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]That didn’t line up with Sierra’s story, did it? Amma had gone for her, nearly killed her—so how was Sierra the target?[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]There was a deep, weary sigh on the other end of the line before an answer came through. [/color]

[color=#fb0207]“Because she’d promised me that she would continue to look after you. She targeted you because-” [/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“Because you figured I wouldn’t question it?” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]Harper interrupted, the words tart and biting as they escaped her lips, her own shock fueling an uncharacteristic outburst.[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]There was a brief pause, then Sierra’s voice softened, losing its usual edge. [/color][color=#fb0207]“[/color][color=#fb0207][i]Because [/i][/color][color=#fb0207]she knew how much you meant to me. The creature…it’s like it twisted something inside her.”[/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“You mean Tiamat?” [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Sierra exhaled sharply through the phone. [/color][color=#fb0207]“I don’t [/color][i][color=#fb0207]know[/color][/i][color=#fb0207] exactly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fully her anymore. She wouldn’t have attacked you otherwise.”  [/color][color=#a9a9a9]There was a rawness to her voice now, an emotion Harper hadn’t expected—an almost reluctant tenderness.[/color][color=#fb0207] “I’d…told her not to let the world turn her into what it wanted her to be. She didn’t deserve to go like that….” [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Her thoughts spun, each one snagging on the image of Amma’s claws around her throat, the recall tightening like a noose. It suffocated any clarity she tried to find in Sierra’s explanations, squeezing until her head felt like it would explode. Harper pressed her fingers to her temples, allowing her body to sink into the mattress of her bed in abnegation. [/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“I just… I don’t understand,” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]Harper muttered, her voice low and almost lost, more to herself than to Sierra. [/color]

[color=#fb0207]“I never wanted you involved,” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]Sierra's voice broke through, almost apologetic. [/color][color=#fb0207]“You were supposed to be safe. I kept you out of it for a reason.” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]For a moment, the line went quiet, and Harper thought that might be the end of it—that Sierra had nothing else to offer.[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]But then came the inevitable twist. [/color][color=#fb0207]“Or at least I tried to keep you out of most of it.” [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Most of it. Something unsettled stirred in Harper’s chest.[/color]

[i][color=#a9a9a9]Most of it. [/color][/i]

[right][i][color=#fb0207]“Because I needed you.”[/color][/i][/right]


[color=#fb0207]“I mean, it doesn’t matter anymore because...she’s gone. Amma’s gone. And you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.” [/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“Try me,” [/color][color=#a9a9a9] Harper responded immediately, her voice steady but her heart pounding. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Sierra’s voice [/color][i][color=#a9a9a9]cracked[/color][/i][color=#a9a9a9]—a rare crack, but it was there. [/color]

[color=#fb0207]“It’s possible that Mom got herself tied up with dangerous people, Harper. I don’t know if it was on purpose or not but…they’re people I can’t protect you from. I could barely protect myself. Amma did that…and she paid the price for it.” [/color]

[color=#8a9a5b][i]Dangerous people?[/i][/color][color=#a9a9a9] Harper repeated in her head, the image those words brought up appearing strange to her. The idea that her mother—[/color][i][color=#a9a9a9]their[/color][/i][color=#a9a9a9] mother—could have been involved in anything nefarious simply didn’t match the woman she remembered, the woman who read them bedtime stories and filled the house with easy laughter. Her mind raced, trying to reconcile the warmth of those memories with the cold reality Sierra was laying bare. Part of her didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to see her parents as anything but victims.[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Why had she [/color][color=#a9a9a9][i]ever[/i][/color][color=#a9a9a9] read that message back then? [/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“And these people…” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]Harper said after some time, clearing her throat from the discomfort that had risen. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“They’re connected to the Foundation in some way?”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Sierra’s response was so muted that Harper almost didn’t catch it.[/color]

[right][sub][color=#fb0207]“Something like that…”[/color][/sub][/right]

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[color=#a9a9a9]That hesitation—just enough to let Harper know there was more to the story. More secrets. Her sister was [/color][color=#a9a9a9][i]still [/i][/color][color=#a9a9a9]hiding things from her, still trying to shield her from the full truth of whatever this situation was. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]But Harper wasn’t a child anymore, wasn’t someone who needed so much cosseting and coddling. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]And maybe her big sister needed reminding of that.[/color]
[/indent]
[COLOR=GRAY][CENTER][COLOR=8A9A5B][sup]_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/COLOR][url=https://open.spotify.com/track/0y1QJc3SJVPKJ1OvFmFqe6?si=2518ea9438a446e9][img]https://i.imgur.com/YWrjMkU.jpeg[/img][/url][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=8A9A5B][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR][I] The Beach[/I] - [I]Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=8A9A5B][b]Human #5.015:[/b][/COLOR][I] In No Man's Land[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][COLOR=8A9A5B][SUP][sub]_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sub][/SUP][/COLOR][indent][sub][color=8A9A5B][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR][I] *Insert Everyone gif here* except for the people who aren't there and who are not Haven duhhhhh[/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=8A9A5B][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR][COLOR=GRAY][I] Where the Fire Burns[/I][/color][/right][/SUP][/indent][/color]

[indent][color=#94b9ff]“I'm... going to join the Foundation.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Harper inhaled deeply, the slightly cold air stinging her throat, allowing the question she wanted to ask sit inside her: [/color][i][color=#a9a9a9]Why? [/color][/i][color=#a9a9a9]It wasn’t anger that simmered beneath her skin, but it wasn’t understanding either. The feeling was closer to a dull, persistent pain, like the memory of a phantom limb reminding her of something she'd lost but couldn't pinpoint. Choosing the Foundation felt like stepping willingly into the belly of the beast, a place that had potentially already taken so much from her—maybe even everything.[/color]

[sub][right][color=#8a9a5b][i][s]But when have you ever let the prospect of danger decide anything for you?[/s][/i][/color][/right][/sub]


[color=#a9a9a9]Leaning back, Harper's fingers sank into the cool sand as she absentmindedly traced circles and lines. Lorcán was speaking now, mentioning his plans to head to Crestwood Hollow. It sounded like the kind of place where people went to disappear for a while, surrounded by family, where they could pretend things were normal until it was safe to come out again. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Practical. Sensible. Harper could almost admire the simplicity of it. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]If only things could be that easy for her, as well. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]But not everyone had the luxury of choice. Harper knew that all too well. As the two newcomers introduced themselves, however, her hand stilled in the sand, the patterns she’d been drawing unknowingly vanishing under her fingers. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Scylla Fluerane. Stephen Anderson. House Gulo. The words were like pebbles thrown into still water, ripples of unease spreading through her chest.[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9][i]Amma’s house.[/i][/color][i][/i][color=#a9a9a9]That was the first thing that flickered through her mind, a fleeting connection that hit her with more weight than she expected. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]The second thought was heavier, darker. [/color][color=#a9a9a9][i]What was this Scylla talking about? [/i][/color][color=#a9a9a9]Harper tried to focus, but she couldn’t see them, couldn’t see anything. Whatever they had, whatever they were handing over to whomever, she had no way of knowing. The frustration of her blindness rose again, suffocating her thoughts as her mind spiralled through the stages of grief like a carousel-[/color]

[center][color=#a9a9a9][color=lightblue]Denial:[/color] [/color][i][color=#8a9a5b]My vision will come back, just like before. No worries….[/color][/i]

[color=#a9a9a9][color=red]Anger:[/color]: [/color][i][color=#8a9a5b]Why is this even happening to me? Haven’t I been through enough already? [/color][/i]

[color=#a9a9a9][color=goldenrod]Bargaining:[/color] [/color][i][color=#8a9a5b]Maybe if I figure out what’s causing this, I can reverse it. If I can just get control of my powers again…. [/color][/i]

[color=#a9a9a9][color=gray]Depression:[/color]  [/color][i][color=#8a9a5b]What if I’m stuck like this forever? I can’t live like this….[/color][/i][/center]
[color=#a9a9a9][color=darkgray]Acceptance:[/color] None. Harper found herself stuck on the previous horse, going round and round in a dizzying circle of melancholy. [/color]


[color=#a9a9a9]Her finger resumed its tracing, this time slower, more sombre. Now that she thought it over, she hadn’t sketched since the Trials—hadn’t even felt the desire to. The realization hit her like a punch, and she pressed her fingertip harder into the sand, carving deeper lines as if that simple action could pull her back to the version of herself she used to know. The girl who found solace in drawing. Who could see. Now, that person felt like a distant memory, slipping further away with every grain of sand that scattered under her touch.[/color]

[sub][right][i][color=#8a9a5b][s]But is that who you even want to be anymore?[/s][/color][/i][/right][/sub]

[color=#a9a9a9]Harper bit down on her lip, tuning everything out, the murmurs around her continuing as voices rose and fell like waves. It wasn’t until Rory’s voice, or more so his rant, broke through that Harper found herself being pulled back into the present like a slap.  [/color]

[color=#04cf3a]“...How you could have possibly chosen the janitor over your own team? Or if you thought leading us to where Haven was kidnapped would make up for nearly getting her killed the first time. If you thought playing the hero then would make up for what Harper, Gil, and Calliope went through. Or if you even fucking cared.”[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]She didn’t need to see who he was directing his fury at to know who it was. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9][i]Katja[/i][/color][color=#a9a9a9]. Sunny, carefree Katja—someone she’d trusted, someone she’d shared moments of laughter and care with, someone she thought had her back—had betrayed them all in the worst possible way.  Had betrayed her. It was so unbelievable, so absurd, that for a moment, Harper almost wanted to [/color][color=#a9a9a9][i]laugh[/i][/color][color=#a9a9a9]. For how could it be true? To have not just one but two people betray her, lie to her face, about any true intention they may or may not have had. [/color]

[color=#04cf3a]“The only justice, Kruger, is that you're alone. Hyperion and his children are dead and gone. There's no more Pacific Royal, no more Blackjack. You've burned everything to the ground. No one loves you.”[/color]

[color=#04cf3a]“[/color][color=#04cf3a][i]Not even Amma.” [/i][/color]

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[color=#a9a9a9]The name. It was the name that did it. It was like Harper’s mind had decided that if it couldn’t get to acceptance, it might as well go back. Past bargaining and straight to what she’d known best all those years ago. [/color]

[color=red]Anger. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]She snapped her head in Rory’s direction, her jaw clenching so tightly that it hurt.[/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“[/color][i][color=#8a9a5b]Shut the [/color][/i][color=#8a9a5b][b][i]fuck[/i][/b][/color][i][color=#8a9a5b] up Tyler[/color][/i][color=#8a9a5b],”[/color][color=#a9a9a9] she hissed. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“You don’t get to speak for her just because you’re hurt. You don’t get to throw Amma’s name around like you [/color][i][color=#8a9a5b]know [/color][/i][color=#8a9a5b]what she felt.” [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Her voice trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer pathos she was barely keeping in check. Amma was gone—taken from them, twisted by forces none of them could fully understand—and hearing her name used like a weapon, used to hurt, was more than Harper could stand.  She wasn’t sure which it was exactly. If it was the anger, the guilt, or the pain of her own helplessness that made her voice shake. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]But once she started, she couldn’t stop. Not until she made one more thing clear. [/color]

[color=#8a9a5b]“I am [/color][color=#8a9a5b][i]not [/i][/color][color=#8a9a5b]defending you,” [/color][color=#a9a9a9]she said to Katja, wherever the hell Harper thought she stood in her complete darkness, before turning back to Rory. [/color][color=#8a9a5b]“But [/color][color=#8a9a5b][i]you [/i][/color][color=#8a9a5b]don’t get to say [/color][color=#8a9a5b][i]no one[/i][/color][color=#8a9a5b] loved her. And you sure as hell don’t get to act like she didn’t care.”[/color][color=#a9a9a9] At this, Harper had to suppress the recall of an embrace, a shudder passing through her as she felt that sensation akin to the first rays of dawn piercing through the early morning mist. A voice whispering that everything was going to be okay. [/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]And they were. Things had gotten worse before they had gotten better, sure.  But they [/color][color=#a9a9a9][i]had [/i][/color][color=#a9a9a9]been okay as she’d said, at least for a while.[/color]

[color=#a9a9a9]Harper swallowed hard, her final words escaping in a hoarse, bitter sigh. [/color]

[center][color=#8a9a5b][i]“Don’t talk about the dead like you fucking know.”[/i][/color][/center]

[color=#a9a9a9][color=#94b9ff]”Stop!”[/color] Cleo yelled out then, forgetting her proximity to Manny as the powderkeg of emotions around her had fully seeped in, turning her aura a dark shade of pale. [color=#94b9ff]”Why would any villain need to send their swords to cut us down? We do it to each other.”[/color] Cleo dug her fingers either side of her head into her temples, painfully pressing back against the migraine that lunged forward. [color=#94b9ff]”Splintered, broken, separated.”[/color]

Pressing her fingers harder into her temples, Cleo felt the migraine pounding at her skull, as though her very blood pulsed with the ache of it. [color=#94b9ff][i]Sundered,[/i][/color] the word spilled from her lips like a curse, a breathless stammer.

[color=#94b9ff]“What good is it to hate each other now?”[/color] she asked; her voice hollow and cold. Unlike her. Unlike Cleo. Warmth all but gone. She stared around at the eyes that looked back. [color=#94b9ff]“You create the Hell that chews you up.”[/color] 

Cleo took a breath, closing her eyes again until finally, something pushed through the darkness that burnt her up from the inside, the thought of her brother. Enough for her to get her senses, enough for her to sway away from the gravitational pull that was what remained of Blackjack and Eclipse. 

[color=#94b9ff]”I don’t... I’m sorry…[/color] She said, confused and scrambling for her belongings before pushing away across the sand, her skin pulsing with the faint glow that began evaporating away.[/color]

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