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Feel free to tell me what you think of this criticism is most welcome.
The lamp hanging from the ceiling sways in the wind and its dim light goes back and forth, once, twice, over and over on the bare concrete walls of the room.
A tall, white-haired man is talking to a woman who sits in the centre of the rocking circle of light. She seems to react to the man's words and formulate the appropriate answers but the focused look on her face is in fact turned toward a deeper and perhaps more disruptive thought.
She watches the odd shadows on the ceiling as the deep voice rumbles somewhere near her. She knows that the end is near. The future suddenly appears like a vast chess game where the first move would be hers…
The man speaking to her is one of the keys to the enigma. His words retrace the course of actions that led to the present moment.
They are the truth.
Her thoughts are blown to smithereens, scattered like broken glass yet all strangely interlocked.
The woman's mouth suddenly curls tremulously into a smile as she half dreams, half recalls a wide alley bordered with endless rows of glowing holobooks and then a man waking up from a nightmare. He looks so confident and poised but doubt is gnawing at him. There is also the shadow of the runic crescent branding her flesh, the one that makes her the third element of the prediction that will doom people of her kind.
Many had already fallen and started to become shadows and no doubt, the mechanism of the Prophecy would crush many more.
But to make sense of those disjoined memories and thoughts one would have to look back in time.
How had it all begun already? The young woman wonders.
Oh, yes… that night, that strange, burlesque night… Force, it seemed ages ago…