Chapter XXV
Everything had stopped; in one second Will's heaving breaths calmed, because there was no one there. No one there at all; the rage of the battle had paused entirely, as a phantom emotion attempted to convince her otherwise. But everything had stopped and even the panic that remained was truly lessened; for now it was only her own.
Because something was wrong and Will only paused for those moments, before some urgency of something other than herself made her scrabble; twisting her hands and wrists in the shackles, warping them into shapes that might eventually fit through, because she hadn't bothered before; the reasons to hope were gone.
But now everything was gone and something of an alert energy repulsed her.
...
Time had not stopped, but Meridian was dead, and Luba watched the world turn listlessly as a supposed King watched his bodies in the waters.
The Oracle hadn't seen it coming, and more and more things were not as he foresaw, but every thing had become clouded, as
the child wrenched her wrists from twisted metal.
They had lost her between portals; when she had run when no mind, nor consequence.
And now the water in which the worlds could be seen,
was now only water,
and Luba could only wonder which of the only souls in Meridian had managed to stop time and block them out.
She prayed, with no hope for a girl she had criticized for weeks, that it was Will.
...
Phobos had smirked, when her body stopped rigid, because he could easily feel the portals now; he could easily close it behind her with a snap of his fingers. He could easily watch her, as her frame stood unusually straight, before her wildly flashing hazelnut-ember eyes rested on something she knew. The panic that had had her breaths short and shallow; her chest pulsing rhythmically and speeded; her body still an engrossment, despite the fact that he was certainly no longer but a man. But a King.
But a God.
And yet his lip's corner quirked, when she had stepped forward and fell to her knees; it was in the manner that she did not commit herself to sorrow; she did not accord and confer any more than herself, in that she had merely dropped - if any, dumpily - to the cold ground beneath her, with the abyss of shadows not a stretch of feet away, and her Gaea down before her. "..Cornelia.."
"Do you like it?" Another thing that he had, as easily he was directly behind her, with her filthy, beautiful Guardian's face in her hands; in a delicate hold as she had looked down at the dead girl. Phobos smirked, applauding her for not being startled enough to jump to face him, to drop her filthy shining blonde locks on the dirt of the floor. "Everyone is dead."
Russet momentarily widened, but then she merely clutched her pink Heart and glowed; only a girl once again, and a mime of frustration captured a corner of his mind. And she would not look up at him again as her eyes remained on her clasping fingers, and he wished to wrench the despicable toy from her hand. "What happened?"
"Why did you transform?" He could feel his own voice snarling, where her had been quietly calm, if only a slight octave higher in pitch for her mournfulness. And it only irked him further, that she was professional, and -not that she'd know it- he was not, but she really didn't see it only shrugging.
"I'm not saving anyone now."
She was saving him an annoyance, but he didn't let that slip from his tongue, merely noting that this was her true body anyway. And that he was a King anyway. She would answer him and ask for his name and presence. "Everyone is dead. I thought that you might like it."
He was teasing her, he knew, but she remained and did not reveal her tears, nor weakness.