At first there is noise. A roaring, whooshing sound similar to what she imagines being caught in a tornado is like. Her entire body is stretched and pulled so hard she is certain she will break. But suddenly the whooshing and the tugging stop and there is silence.
Silence and darkness.
Looking around, she squints for any semblance of light but there is nothing. Infinite blackness envelops her. Is this what death feels like, she wonders? Just an endless void? Maybe she hasn't become the Dark One—perhaps she just dissolved into….oblivion.
And yet, she feels something-an odd sensation starting to creep its way from the tips of her toes to her legs, moving slowly and deliberately. Her magic had always felt like fire rushing through her veins-scorching and vibrant—waking up her entire body. This is different.
This is like ice steadily crawling inside her, freezing everything in its path, extinguishing the flames. All the normal feeling in her legs is gone now, replaced with numbness; yet with that desensitization comes a sense of strength—of invincibility. How can you hurt, if you don't feel? As the ice continues its upward ascent, with a sickening pain in the pit of her stomach, she realizes what's happening—what will happen as soon as the icy coldness hits her heart and the transformation is complete.
As she feels the ice slowly slither into her chest, she shuts her eyes tight and clings to the memories she holds most dear. Drinking hot chocolate with Henry at Granny's; sitting with her parents late at night in the kitchen while they regale her with tales of the Enchanted Forest; and Killian. Always, always Killian. Standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger, drenched in sunlight, the smell of sea air clinging to his clothes. Gazing down at her, eyes shining, a gentle smile on his face.
Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. Emma knows the answer now.