The final power, and perhaps even more dangerous than the power of deconstruction, is the power of reconstruction. Like with the hand of death, the dimension of time is restricted from human use for obvious reasons. As if made to save the world from a foolish Source's doings, the power of reconstruction may be used once in the life of a talisman, to turn back time no more and no less than four and twenty hours, leaving the Source with full knowledge of what will happen in the future, giving him time to correct his misstep. But be warned, for the function will only work once. Use this power only under the most extreme of circumstances, weathering them if you can.

~From The Annuls of Paracelsus

2222222222

Battered and bruised, his right hand damaged beyond repair, 1 looked up and trembled at what he saw. The Machine was advancing on them with alarming speed, even though their badly depleted number had knocked out one of its mechanical limbs. And there was 9, the boy he despised, standing boldly to face it alone.

All his babbling about the talisman and the sequence and sacrificing himself hadn't been babbling. He had meant every word of it. And now he was fully prepared to meet that fate. He was about to die, and he was ready for it. Such a thing should have made 1' heart skip with joy. Instead, it was skipping with fear and anxiety.

Without this bold, knowledgeable boy, what were the remaining four supposed to do? He had left 7 in charge, knowing that 1 was in no condition to take up the reigns… But what if she couldn't do it?

As if on cue, their team's only woman ran up beside 9 and gripped his arm.

"Please," she cried out, almost tearfully. "We can't do this without you!"

His gaze and voice were calm as he took her hands in his own.

"They all died because of me. I started this, and now I need to finish it."

With a final understanding, loving look, she released him and let him run ahead to face the monster. She knew what she had to do, but she feared it more than anything. She was questioning herself—after everything she had done so bravely in her long, hard life, did she have the nerve to do this now, when the man she loved so much needed her?

It was more than 1 could stand to watch what happened next. He ducked back behind his hiding place, praying that the cobbled together plan would work, that 7 could do her part, and that 9's heroic sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. Frozen, terrified, he listened as the Machine powered up and released its soul-sucking energy beam. Then, all at once, it was silenced. The thing roared furiously, but only for a moment. As suddenly as it had quieted, the noise of the same energy beam powered up again, longer this time.

And then an explosion. The Machine went tumbling down and hit the ground so that the earth rocked all around. A cloud of dust went up, obscuring everything, covering all in its path.

Then, silence. Deep, dreadful silence.

After a long pause, 1 peered out from his hiding place, trying to see through the dust. And there amid the cloud, her white skin blazing through the dust, he found 7 alive and kneeling on the ground, weeping quietly, the talisman clutched to her chest.

So it was over and done, and she had succeeded after all. But in the process, she had lost everything.

Eventually, she rose shakily to her feet and just began walking. Somewhere in the background, the twins got the hint and wordlessly followed. 1 fell in line far behind them, leaving them a respectful distance. He hadn't the heart to bother them with his presence. He just walked behind them, wondering where 7 was headed. And after a time, he found that she had led them back to the home of their creator. To what end, he had no idea, and frankly didn't want to know yet.

The rest of the day was spent in silence. None of them had anything left to say. While the twins collapsed nearby, exhausted, 7 and 1 remained awake. Still keeping his distance, he watched her carefully as she sat alone, staring at the talisman, deep in thought. He wondered what might be going on in her head.

After a while of contemplation, she got back up and began digging shallow trenches in the ground. He wondered what had inspired to do so, and what she thought to accomplish, but he couldn't think of approaching her like this. It was a star-shaped construction, the five trenches meeting in a shallow well at the center, where she piled dried wood for a fire. Before each trench she erected a pole as tall as she was, each one bearing a scrap of cloth with the names of the Lost.

It was a rather lovely monument, and 1 watched as she worked for a few hours to make it so. He couldn't recall seeing her work so patiently, so carefully, so lovingly.

When it was obvious that she had finished, something called him forth to finally join her; apparently, whatever it was also woke the twins from their sleep. Still in reverent silence, 7 instinctively hit the same sequence in reverse.

Construction and Deconstruction, 1 realized with a start.

One by one, the souls of the Lost poured forth from the talisman, each taking their place beside their banners. And, of course, 9 was the last to reappear. Before taking his place, he walked right up to 7 with a gentle smile. She tried to speak to him, to say goodbye, or thank you, or anything; it would be her last chance to do so. But words still failed her, and her voice caught painfully in her throat. Always understanding, he reached out brushed his glowing fingers against her face as if to say, "It's okay."

Finally, she broke their silence with a quaking whisper.

"I love you."

He pulled his hand back, touched his fingers to his lips, and then touched them against hers, the first kiss they had never shared. Then he had to back away and take his place at his banner, to ascend with the others and leave the mortal world behind forever.

In a flash, they were all gone. In their place, rain began to fall for the first time in years.

7 fell to the ground again, emotionally exhausted, and began to weep again, openly and bitterly. The promises of the rainfall did nothing to comfort her. What was a bright, shining world to her now? She would have traded it in an instant for a lifetime spent in the dry, desolate ruins, if only she could have spent it with him. It was deucedly unfair, and it was bound to be miserable.

1 had sworn he would never touch the talisman, never let himself become involved in its shenanigans that only brought doom. But he was already in as deep as he could be. He bent down and picked it up, holding it for the first time, feeling its shape and its weight. He remembered. In the front of his mind and his heart, he knew—

There was still a way out.

With the rain falling softly around him, he wandered off with the talisman in hand and sat down on a rock to think about things. If he chose to use the sequence for Reconstruction now, he could turn back time and change things. So many things had happened in the past 24 hours; a chance to take some of them back was a welcome idea. If ever there was a time to do it, that time had come. It was staring him in the face like a bright light at the end of a long tunnel.

9's heroic death had turned out almost as pointless as if he had turned and fled from that fate, leaving the monster loose to terrorize them forever. But if he chose to go through with it, change what had happened that afternoon, he knew that he would never see the outcome.

And what am I, in his place? A broken old man, with no business taking care of the family he left behind. Has he truly died to save them, only to take away everything they had looked forward to about being saved? He was young and strong and brave, and he loved them all so much. His life was worth so much more than mine…

The sun had almost vanished beyond the horizon. 24 hours would take him back to the previous night, when he had watched he Sanctuary burn to the ground. That was promising. Knowing what he knew now, there were a great many words he would have gladly taken back. He moved to press the sequence into the talisman, to go back in time… But his old fears still gripped him, and held him back.

For hours he sat there held in a staring contest with the device. The rain continued to patter down softly, and soon he was soaked through, but he couldn't move. It was as if the talisman had a will all to itself, battling his own, daring him to make the next move. The night wore on, and he remembered where he had been the previous night—fighting with the others, being paralyzed by another monster, trekking through the ruins after it. He could have been helpful, useful, less of a burden. But still, the will of the talisman seemed to crush his own.

The sun rose. He had held 9 back yesterday, as the Machine had destroyed his best friend. Today, he would have let the boy go to do something—anything—to save his friend. 1 had been so sure there was nothing to be done; but now, he wasn't as sure of that. Still, he couldn't break the staring contest.

The sun climbed higher; 24 hours ago, he had lost track of time entirely. He wasn't sure what had happened at that hour the day before. All he knew for certain was that the talisman would take him back to relive the most terrifying hours of his life now. That, and he was running out of time.

Finally, he gave the talisman a glare and scoffed at it.

"You do not control me," he informed it, and began punching the proper buttons for the sequence spitefully hard.

"I control you!"

The world spun around him, and there was a great flash. The next thing he was aware of, he was flying through the air, heat and dust spiraling around him. He fell back to the ground, coughing and wheezing, his side throbbing anew. He looked down and gasped to see his mangled hand once again. The Machine was looming after them, just as he remembered; and there was 9, standing to face it as before.

He had gone back just in time to correct his greatest mistake.

He watched with morbid fascination as the same scene from yesterday played out again. 7 dashed up out of nowhere and gripped his arm as fearfully as he remembered.

"Please! We can't do this without you!"

Just as calmly as before, he took her hands in his.

"They all died because of me. I started this, and now I have to finish it."

It was even more inspiring than it had been the first time. 1 was surer of it than anything he had ever been sure of: he was absolutely about to do the right thing. This time, he watched as 9 ran up to face the Machine, and it prepared to do its work.

"They left us nothing..." he mused. "Nothing. Why should we have to right their wrongs?"

Feeling fully ready to meet his chosen fate, 1 took a deep breath and steeled himself for the final plunge.

"Sometimes, one must be sacrificed…"

2222222222

Author's Notes…

Need there be any? I hope you've all enjoyed this as much as I have!