"Elysium," the professor stated, "is the abode of the blessed after death."

The words ran through Nana's mind like wild fire, burning each individual thought she had ever possessed until nothing but Elysium consumed her conscious. Elysium. Elysium. Elysium. The words seemed to chant themselves, incapacitating her very will to survive. Her ability to breath. Thick black smoke seemed to smother her, the words wrapping around her throat cutting off the air she was still miraculously able to breath in.

"I am going to die," she whispered, holding back thousands of tears fighting to put out the fire of those words. "I am going to die right here."

Elysium. Elysium. Elysium. Oh, how she absolutely hated those words. The words that were burning inside every corner of her mind. The words consuming every part of her fragile body. The words choking her. The words killing her.

"There is no Elysium for me. I am . . . diclonius. I am nothing."

The flames continued on. Her mind nothing but layers of soft ash covering the remnants of her former self. The fire was outside now. She felt the heat across her face, ready to burn what was left of her. It was not much.

"There is nowhere for me. Not in this life. Not in death. I am diclonius. I am . . . nothing."

The burning increased, consuming the entire of her chest. Burning away the steady rise and fall of her shallow breathing. Ebbing away at the corners of her life. A tear escaped. She wiped it away, horrified. She did not want the fire to go out. Not until even her name burned with the flames twisting around the recesses of her body and mind. Not until there was nothing but ash covering the Earth and its ignorance. Not until . . . Elysium.

"I am diclonius." She repeated. "I am . . . finished."