Time Throws Fire
by Ophelia Everfall
Part One | Redux Eterna
Part Two | Polymath Blues
Part Three | The Feather
Part Four | Wizard
Part Five | Coward’s End
Part Six | Whirls of Wind
Content Warning: This is only a story.
Part Three | The Feather
Chapter Twenty-Four
Synchronous cross-meshing continued with the encapsulation of Rory’s essence. Spirit asunder, throttle to full in Monarch, they’d been found.
Void spaced throughout Boreal was the hottest magma touched in the universe—Rory’s light.
Together in harmonic omniscience there was no chance of closing back upon Atreya. The oceanic mass of stellar viscera was dust and water and nothing more. Interdimensional warfare was a must.
Choices throughout time had made an act. Explosions set in the deepest chamber of a planet would be surrendered to fateful unending. The mind of Rory Tyrell had been subsumed by all for these moments. She was everything.
When two witches were present things got interesting around here.
“Icky!” Theodore whispered into Poe’s ear within War Cry—the intelligence able to contemplate both modalities of speech in its representation simultaneously. Echo was nowhere. Flowing juiced particles; polymotes and nano tubes, they’d bled like microplastics into a sea.
Echo could see every inch. She was watching it all. She’d slept too long. She’d dreamed too much. She never woke up. She was inside the machines and nowhere else. Everything within those walls was her own construction. Splaying through data would flip to mind and back the pings of thought so far beyond a woman through some hardline to everything that would show her reflections of most.
The filter was a girl with her trauma and it was being lifted by means of simulation. She’d been creating a reality where she’d come to form another way, finding the means to see it, understanding who might play what role and projection herself throughout and within the only visage she’d known to feel by touch.
Dong would ring. A final call to return.
Olmec was Rory now—cosmic librarian of the darkness.
Intelligence was churning. Insects perishing. Petty men of lessest make. Nothing to keep but the bones of their simplistic spacecrafts. She’d held no thought for disregard in their dispersal once witnessed—that greatness capable of this newest becoming.
Thunder swallowed her. Spat her whole into the space between. Something lost within herself bound. Garment of laced webbing reaching into nether to carry War Cry and Poe through without harm. Rory was taking them both across a sea of stars. Sister’s Two would know their names.
