Sorry for the late update (again) Real life has been kicking me in the ass the past few months. But we've almost reached the end of the story! There is only one more chapter left to go after this one. What a ride! I love all you guys, please let me know what you think! :)

My soul would sing of metamorphoses

But since, oh gods, you were the source of these

bodies becoming other bodies, breathe

your breath into my book of changes: may

the song I sing be seamless as its way

weaves from the world's beginning to our day

-Ovid, Metamorphoses

Norway

''How do you think they're doing?'' Jane asked the old woman as she paced the floor, rocking Avi in her arms. The little girl seemed to be taking to her, she cuddled close instantly against the scientist and fell asleep.

Heid was sitting by the window, looking meditatively out and up at the sky. Her voice was quiet as she answered, ''The further they go, the more they'll get lost. Ego will dissolve, slowly. The light will pull them and they won't come back.'' She swallowed, looking pale and blank, like a cold windowpane in January. ''Because nothing will matter anymore, everything will fall away.'' Then she added, as the flutter of a brief, sad smile passed over her face. ''And they will know. They will finally understand what they need to do.''

It was quiet. There was only the rustling of the tree branches and the slow lapping of the water. Darcy looked on into the distance, tried to see across the vast lake but it was still shrouded in mist, and she still hadn't any idea what was on the other side. She supposed that there was plenty of time to find out. She and Loki sat beside one another on the ground, her head resting on his shoulder. Who knew how much time had passed. If time even existed where they were now. It didn't seem to be measurable in any way, other than the slightly changing colour of the sky. Something felt like it was ending, swallowed up. Darcy reached over and threaded her fingers through Loki's.

''Now you don't have to wander through any more cemeteries,'' he said, thinking back to their conversation in Paris, before they had ever left. ''I never liked the thought of you there by yourself, all that worry in your mind, weighing you down.''

''I was never by myself, though, really, remember?'' she said, managing a smile. ''You're always with me.''

He sighed. ''I just wish that you would have been more willing to share your fears. You've had to keep so much locked away inside, where even I couldn't reach. And I don't want that. I want you to tell me everything. Share the ghosts, don't face them alone.''

''I think that the ghosts are leaving now,'' she told him.

They waited until they were sure, until all of the doubt had fallen away and only a deep resolve remained. The air had hushed itself, the trees around them were still. It wasn't a bad place to stay, Darcy thought to herself as she looked around. The Dreaming went on forever, a limitless space, a country without borders or boundaries. They always did say to be careful what you wished for. Once, Darcy would have given anything to find herself alone with Loki in a place like this, a safe place where nobody could touch them or bother them, a timeless room where they could lay undisturbed in each other's arms. And now they had that, at last. But it had come with a cost.

''Are you ready?'' Loki asked. Darcy nodded.

And so, they stood together and began their song. This time, they needed no rhythm, no stones or drumming, just their heartbeats and their voices, melding as one. The sound was clearer than before, stronger. It rose up through the air, became part of the ground, the water. It slipped inside the dark trapdoor like a beam of light, weaving through, dissolving the darkness there as it went. The song merged with the ancient, vast power of the Well and imploded those secret passageways, creating a chain reaction that combined with the still-overloading reactor in the Palace of Souls. This formed a tunnel-like vortex as it un-made all of the horror—and its maker along with it. Inside his cell in Asgard, the Reckoner could only scream and howl, as he was swallowed up by that light, that sound, as it pulled him apart, leaving no trace.

They sang with all the beauty, all the sorrow and love in their hearts, the pain and the hope: all of it became the song that tore down the darkness, that reversed the damage, that gave life where before there had been death and sickness. It spread, twined through everything and altered it at it's core, rebuilding it.

And then, at last, when the final note was sung, the loop was closed and there was peace. The Palace and the tunnels imploded in upon themselves until the Void swallowed them all, until every door was closed.

New York City

Something was different in the air, Steve noted, he could feel it all along his skin, like an electrical charge. He didn't seem to be the only one, either. Captain America watched as the strange white-haired woman that he had found seemed to be suddenly overtaken by an acute fit of restlessness, like an animal sensing an earthquake. She broke away from Steve and ran, darting into one of the buildings. ''Wait!'' he called, sprinting after her. For such a fragile, tiny thing, she was definitely fast, racing up the stairwell, floor after floor, beset upon by a freakish jolt of energy. Even the Captain was panting when they reached the roof. Olivia was standing still now, just staring and waiting. They weren't alone there, Steve saw, an infected woman with long dark hair was also poised, watching, her body tensed. Her ears seemed perked, as if listening for something. He saw that the look on her face was almost frightened.

And that was when everything changed. A brief shockwave of chaos reverberated all throughout the Nine Worlds as a balance was restored. All of the infected stood completely still at first. Then they began to scream, or rather, the lonely ghosts began to scream as they were wrenched from the human Vessels that they had stolen. Some had an easier time of it than others, those in the earlier stages simply looked as though a layer was being peeled from them, then they collapsed to the ground, tired and pale, malnourished and disoriented, leaving a sea of sickly people covering the city.

The dark haired woman, formerly known as Penelope, let out a screech and clutched at her face. She looked like she was burning, being immolated from the inside out. ''No!'' she screamed. ''No! Don't take me from her!'' With one final shriek she fell to the ground, crumpling like a rag doll as the Captain saw something tear away from her body, appearing as a dark cloud for a brief moment before disappearing. Not knowing what else to do, overwhelmed with the sudden crushing emptiness inside of herself, the tall woman scrambled to her feet and began to run. Steve tried to catch her while she was in motion but he was too far. She didn't even hesitate once, not even as her body went clean over the edge of the roof and she plummeted fifteen stories to the pavement below.

It fell quiet after that. A stillness settled across everything like an early morning mist. Already Darcy could feel this world sealing itself off, forming a barrier. The river still flowed, but it was diverted around the place where they were. She and Loki existed now on an island of their own, it seemed. A great sense of relief flooded through her body and mind as the Well left her for good and found its own home: it became a physical place, a small, impossibly deep pond surrounded by rocks. The energy collected there, in that place, and occassionally spilled outwards, channelled naturally to where it needed to go. It could show them things, they could peer into the water and receive visions, glimpses of the Nine worlds. It wasn't the only way to see, of course, but it offered the clearest picture.

''How do you feel?'' Loki asked.

''Free,'' she replied.

As she looked down at the ripples in the Well, first she saw her own reflection and then it changed. Scenes from her life, playing one after another, happy times. One in particular now spread itself across the water and stayed.

There it was, Darcy could see it, the moment from a time that was now so long ago and far away yet not: a foreign country, the city square shining in the sunlight. She could recall the weight of Loki's arm across her shoulder, feel the smile spread across her lips, heard the click of the camera. Blink. This is the moment. Frozen in time. This is what she will remember of us. We look young, and happy. The vision passed gently.

She raised her head to catch a glimpse of someone up ahead by the edge of the lake, walking towards her, almost like a mirage. Then she drew closer, and Darcy could see her face. It was almost identical to her own, except for the eyes. Heavy and sorrowful, yet determined. It was remarkable, how they looked so alike and yet so different.

''It's you,'' Darcy whispered.

''So it is. An eternal echo,'' Sigyn said, the sad smile still draped over her face like a sheet. ''You are me. The story still happened, still goes on, regardless of how. Your eternal minute still echoes. Your sacrifice was not forgotten.''

Lines, dream tracks, thinning the barriers, the chaos, the dawn, the waking. A symphony. Threads weaving together. Darcy closed her eyes and when she opened them, Sigyn was gone, but in her place was another very familiar figure.

''You,'' she breathed, staring at Lugh Retnick. She blinked, then said, ''You took the reversal spell.'' She had suddenly realized this. So many of the missing pieces were now coming back together, creating a large picture that had been hidden before. He nodded.

''I didn't want you to get ahead of yourselves, to go doing something stupid and rash,'' Lugh admitted. ''You both had so much power and ability, but so little patience. If something looks too good to be true, then it usually is. That book...'' he shook his head.''It contained a thousand recipes for disaster and that was the worst one. You finally came to realize that to read is not to understand. You have to feel it, to really know. You have to mean it. It only hurts when it's real. That's the only time it matters. That's where the magick is, in the feeling. In the desire.''

''You...saved us.'' She could barely believe it.

He shrugged as if it were irrelevant. ''I once told you that you appealed to what was left of my humanity, and that was true. You were such...a rare thing. Both so damaged, yet so innocently and deeply in love, as if you were created solely for each other, to fit together to form a better being. It was beautiful, I must admit. And it made an old man begin to think. It was the day that you both arrived that I started to feel...the weight of my age for the first time. And it made me see everything differently; sound, smell, everything was changed and it was covered in shadows. A song...or the way that light hits the top of the water just so. Late afternoon. You know what I mean.''

''Yes,'' she told him. Tears ran down her face and across her lips and when she opened her mouth to speak she tasted salt and memory. ''I know what you mean.''

The Walters Estate, England

The medical team arrived to take care of Anna-Lily. They brought with them reports that the infected in London, New York, and other parts of the world had suddenly begun to recover. They were all in dire need of medical attention, and the hospitals were once again growing overwhelmed, but they were regaining coherency, and no longer appearing possessed. ''There's no next of kin, no documentation as to what to do. It's your call, Ma'am,'' one of them said after they had spent several minutes evaluating the strange scene and taking photographs.

''What are our options?'' asked Natasha, though she already knew.

The agent looked somewhat haunted and worn as he expained, ''We can either keep her in the tank...technically she'll still be alive. Or...we can shut it down. Let her...''

''—Rest,'' the Black Widow finished. ''She's been sleeping for too long. She needs to rest.'' They nodded back at her in solemn agreement. ''We'll make the arrangements, then.''

''Wait,'' she said, and one of them turned back to her. ''Her father—his body is in cold storage, in the sub-basements, back at headquarters. They should be given a proper burial. He's been waiting long enough to be with her again.''

''Understood, ma'am,'' the agent said with a nod and then turned away again, back to the machines. Natasha ascended the old staircase, breathed the now-night air and let out a rough cough of laughter, then another, until she was nearly dizzy and there were tears burning in her eyes. The redhead took a moment to compose herself, leaned against the large tree and bent her head. The sound of her phone ringing jolted her sharply back, and she answered it.

Natasha's brow furrowed deeply as she listened to Bruce's voice on the other end. ''What do you mean you lost them?'' She listened another moment and then rubbed her forehead. ''All right. I'm on my way.''

Almost just as she had hung up with him the phone rang again, and her heart felt strange when she looked at the number. ''Tony? What's going on?''

''Andrews is awake. He's asking for you.''

''Tell me about the letter,'' Loki said knowingly. ''The one that the old man gave you. No sense in keeping secrets anymore, love.''

Traces of the song still carried over everything, echoing each time the wind blew. Even if they leaned their heads down close to the ground they could hear it, covering and protecting. The Dreaming was brighter now. And the trees were alive with leaves and blossoms. Some even had those pink cherry blossoms that Darcy had wanted to walk beneath so much.

''Ethan wrote it to Helen. Joe didn't send that box to her,'' Darcy explained to him. ''He was already dead. Ethan sent it to her. He had no way of knowing what she was going to do. He was trying to protect her, that's the tragedy of it.'' Shaking her head, she continued, ''The second letter was supposed to explain that Joe had been killed, though not necessarily how...it was supposed to explain a lot of things, I think,'' she smiled sadly. ''He loved her so much. She never got to know. The letter was never sent. And so, she died believing that she'd been abandoned and forgotten.''

''Love makes you behave irrationally,'' Loki mused. ''It also has a strange tendency to make you want to paint.'' He gave a shrug of his shoulders. ''Such a strange story we found ourselves in the middle of. And we never did get to meet Joe Haven, did we?''

She shrugged. ''I don't suppose that there was much to him. Like I said before, he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, or some other hapless Shakespearean character.'' Darcy sighed and her head drooped.

''What is it?'' he asked, studying the abrupt sadness on her face.

''I just hope that Cloud is ok,'' she replied, gazing up at him now, her eyes watery. ''She deserves a chance at life.''

Loki smiled, the look strangely knowing. ''I think that she'll be just fine.''

They stood in quiet contemplation, a few blossoms from one of the trees fluttered down around them like pink confetti.

''I think that all of the ghosts are finally gone,'' said Darcy, and she stared out at the water again.