CHAPTER EIGHT

A question of faith

On Earth, in the mid 1990s, in the Washington D.C. zones of the United States America, in a small sub-town in D.C., there was a simple, yet highly elegant church. A large congregation was swarming in, with priests outside welcoming the visitors and conferring their holy blessings. Among them was a woman who seemed like she belonged there, but also out of place at the same time. She had on a tailored blouse and short skirt, which were both beige. She had on a matching knee-length coat. The woman had thick, elegant red hair that ended sharply at her neck, which complemented her beautiful green eyes. The woman was incredibly pretty, but her excellent curves and looks were deceiving – she was a badass agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. She had faced death numerous times, and a horrible cancer almost killed her, but she had made it through, thanks to quick thinking, her family, her doctors, and her partner Fox Mulder, who she had a close bond to…and maybe something more, possibly.

As the woman walked into the church, and the doors began to close behind her, one of the priests stopped her.

"Dana?" the priest asked. The woman, Dana Scully, turned to see the priest, and older man in mass robes.

"Hello, Father McCue," she smiled. "How's the family?"

"Doing well, doing well," the Father smiled, leading Dana by the arm towards the front of the church. "I just wanted to ask you if you would be comfortable sitting up further towards our altar this morning."

"I don't have any issues with it," Dana replied. Father McCue smiled and led her to a bench two rows back from the altar, on the right hand side. After seating her, Father McCue headed to the altar's stage right side, allowing time for the last few members of the mass to come in. Once everyone was in, Father McCue walked up to the altar. He turned so that he was facing the altar, and then put his hands together in prayer. A moment or two later, he turned to the congregation and walked up to the podium set up for him. He opened the Bible on the podium, and he said to the congregation, "Here, in the House of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, we recognize the power of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Today we shall learn together the true meaning of our Eternal Lord." The congregation bent its head in prayer. Dana did so as well, but something…inexplicable, told her that this was one congregation that would be different. Not better, not worse, not in the middle even, just…different.

After a few prayers were said, the congregation gave peace. After this, Father McCue continued, "Before we continue, I would like to make an announcement, one I believe to be of the upmost importance. As some of you know, there are several among us here today that have had visions of the Savior, He who suffered for our sins, and blessed us with his undying love." By now, the members of the congregation had raised their heads, and when Farther McCue mentioned those who had visions, Dana saw a few members of the congregation – a typical, lovely American family with two small children; an aging, rather silent man who was almost completely bald except for a few twisted strands of hair; a woman who had so much makeup on that no one could be quite sure what she really looked like; a young, unmarried couple, who were very romantic since beginning their relationship a year and a half ago; and…wait a minute, this was new. There was a man in a dark red suit towards the back, who was not a member of this church, as far as Dana knew. He had slick, greasy hair, a badly trimmed beard, a malformed right eye, and an almost uncategorizable first impression of him that seemed to cling to him like drying glue.

"They have informed myself and several other Brothers and Fathers that they have had, quite recently," Father McCue continued. "Have had powerful, and very true, visions of the Lord." Dana turned back to Father McCue, but she still was wary of the man in the red suit in the back row.

"With their permission, I would like to share those visions amongst you," Father McCue said. With no major disapproval from the congregation, McCue went on.

"In these visions, they have seen the Lord Christ in all of his glory…but not in the way that they, or anyone, in that manner, had expected. Instead, they saw the Lord in a…very different way.

"He appeared to them, not as his glorious self, but as something that only…" Father McCue was temporarily silent before he continued, "…the darkest depths of evil could produce." The congregation began to murmur, and Dana found herself a little scared. She had dodged bullets, survived a ravenous cancer, and had seen things that no one else would believe if they had seen; yet at this particular moment there was something about the tone of McCue's voice that unsettled her.

"One of them," Father McCue went on, surreptitiously stealing a glance at the aging, nearly bald man, who had been one of the church members that had supposedly experienced the vision. "Even went as far as to create an image of this new form of our Lord." When he said this, two hooded monks walked slowly onto the altar, carrying between them a large canvas covered in a brown sheet. The monks kneeled when they reached the center of the altar so that the canvas could be seen by the entire congregation. Father McCue slowly took off the sheet, and all present took a good hard look at the face that had been drawn.

It was a man who appeared to be of Spanish or Mexican descent. He had short, spiky black hair, a blocky nose, thin lips, pronounced ears, and several scars. His eyes were colorless, mysterious, and alien. He seemed to have a holy aura around him, yet also seemed to be from the darkest depths of hell itself. No one could be quite sure what to make of it entirely, but all had their eyes fixed upon it.

"The reason why I show you this today," Father McCue concluded. "Is that I wish to ask of you this – have any of you seen him?" The Father paused, half expecting for someone to jump out of his or her seat and say that they had indeed seen him. No one stood. For several long, eerie moments, it was as silent as the grave. As Dana was taking a good, hard look at the image, she pondered the validity of the situation. Having a background in science, she judged the facts on hand – no clear sightings, a half-vague dream at best, and presented in an equally vague way. Fake? Or misunderstood? Most likely, according to science. However, Dana could not shake off that feeling that, maybe, there was indeed some validity to it. Could the church member really have seen such a person? Could the Savior really have come back to this Earth, and now was he on some holy mission to change the world?

Mulder.

The thought of the man suddenly appeared in Dana's head. Maybe Mulder could try to piece something together…wait, maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Some of Mulder's claims were a little…uncategorizable, to say the least. Mulder was a dedicated federal agent, but his work had drawn him into a completely firm grip on what he was involved in – never wanting to let go of what he had been chasing for years – the truth behind the greatest mysteries of the world.

Why question yourself Dana? You know you love him.

The hairs on the back of Dana's neck stood on end. She swore that she had heard something…wait, was that?

The giant stained glass depictions in the church suddenly glowed, and a bright, warm light shone thorugh. The whole congregation stared in wonder as the church glowed in light. Even Father McCue looked around in awe as the light flooded in. Suddenly, through the huge stained glass piece over the altar, a brighter light shone, and from it floated down…a being. It looked humanoid, female, and like a goddess. She seemed to be made of light itself, and the air around her shimmered with an unseen power.

Dana, being semi-religious, had incredibly conflicting feelings about what she was seeing. This was scientifically impossible, but she had seen stranger in her times working in the X-files. On the other hand, something else within Dana…something unexplainable…believed truly in what she was seeing.

The mysterious man in the back of the church slowly stood, which the being noticed. She glowed brighter at his presence as the man walked forward. The man himself mysteriously glowed in orange and yellow, like the fires that burned, but did not consume, the Biblical burning bush. The light from both beings filled the church with powerful light, and then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

transition

"Volrack?!"

Presul could not believe who he was seeing – it was a man who should not have been able to exist in this dimension. He was a shorter Greek fellow, in full Greek armor and two swords strapped to his back. One of his legs seemed disjointed and misshapen, and barely seemed to hold his own weight. He had curly hair, soft features, and muscular body that had seen more battles than a normal human could count. The woman beside him was in dark red armor, had blonde hair, brown eyes, and was purely elegant and beautiful. The second man had on the attire that seemed to be reminiscent of the 1800s English upper class, but more casual influences were evident. He was almost a head taller than Volrack, but with his round face, semi-soft features, and large but softly curved limbs – he looked like a giant teddy bear. The last one, the armored monster, was truly a beast to behold. He was covered in very dark, geometrical armor plates on the torso, shins, and arms. The armored plates that stuck out on his shoulders were connected by a rectangular-like plate attached to the back. Three long spikes extended out of each shoulder armor plate. As for the legs, on his thighs were huge skeleton hands – human hands – that seemed to wrap around the thighs like they were gripping onto them for dear life. Armored boots with dragon fangs on the feet clung to his feet and shins. The monster wore a dark hood, from which two wicked, multi-spiked horns protruded from. His face was completely dark, with the exception of nostrils that occasionally puffed smoke, and the eyes, bright white that were nightmares in of themselves. His armored gloves clenched, the metal grinding together with a cringing scraping. A long cape-like piece of black woven metal strips that attached to the back of its waist completed the terrifying picture.

"Yeah, that's my name," Volrack replied. "Unless I've been renamed something else, in which case then you should enlighten me."

"Uh, are we missing something?" Sora asked, lowering his keyblade. The giant armored figure behind Volrack had been silent, but when it saw the Keyblade, it pushed the others aside.

"Give me the Keyblade, child," the beast hissed, its voice like the devil himself. His voice paralyzed almost everyone who was not a super-being. Sora tried to move, but he was frozen in place with fear.

"I am taking that, whether you like it or…" the beast snarled as it reached to take the Keyblade from Sora's cold, shivering hands. However, as he laid a single finger on the blade, a blast of lightning smashed the beast back through – yes, through – the wall on the other side of the medical bay. Everyone leapt aside as the beast crashed through the wall and into the empty operating room on the other side of the wall. After a moment, the monster rose, operating chemicals sizzling against its armor.

"It appears you cannot be separated from the Blade, Keyblade Master," the beast said, kicking broken equipment out of its way. "Maybe you will give it to me…now, or I will make you –"

"STOP!" Presul exclaimed. His eyes glowed, and suddenly a red mist appeared out of nowhere, and a blast of energy hit him square in the chest. The beast stumbled as he took the hit, but all of a sudden the girl with the ponytail, who had been standing a good distance off, suddenly fell to the ground, grabbing her head and screaming in horror. Her friend grabbed her by the shoulder, yelling, "Katniss! KATNISS! Listen to me! I'm here! It's okay! It's alright! No one's dead! Katniss!" The boy seemed to have done the right thing, but the girl was now shaking in horror. The group of three teens were pushed out of the way as Riker, Beverly, and Jean Luc rushed up to the kneeling, crying girl.

"Are you alright?" Jean-Luc exclaimed. "Can you hear me?" The girl slowly nodded, but tears kept falling down her face.

"Out of my way," the lizard man hissed, pushing everyone out of the way, including Katniss' friend.

"Listen to me," the lizard man said. "I want you to close your eyes and slow your breathing." Katniss took several, gasping breaths, but she managed to pull herself together and look at the lizard man. He put his hand on Kantiss' forehead and closed his eyes.

A blast of images shrieked through his mind. A black man who seemed to be a very good friend of his…an old president whose hidden intentions were that of a monster…a huge arena covered by a dome…her family, watching the event Katniss was in…fellow citizens – slaughtering each other! And that wasn't it – he also saw the very recent medical bay scene where Presul shot the armored monster. But it wasn't red mist flying, nor was it Argrda that was hit. The girl's memories were that of a young man, maybe only fifteen, being shot by an arrow – an arrow that Katniss had fired.

He pulled out of Katniss' mind, and he snapped back into the real world, breathing heavily.

"What in God's name have you done?" the lizard man gasped.

"I saw it too," the armored monster said. "As did my companions and Lord Presul. We have a way of tapping into a mind-to-mind transfer, so we saw every detail of it.

"What was that?" the monster asked, turning to Presul. Except Presul wasn't standing – he was leaning against one of the beds, and he had a hand covering his face. He was sobbing uncontrollably. At the same time his sobbing intensified, a very pale silver mist trickled out of Katniss and went into Presul's chest. As the mist was drawn out, Katniss felt a huge wave of relief, a release of pain and agony.

Presul's sobbing had become incredibly audible, and he was having a difficult time pulling himself together. The group of three teens rushed up, but Presul pushed them back, fierce anger in his eyes. Everyone in the medical bay jumped back when Presul lashed out. The look of anger fell away from his face, replaced by the sorrow. He took several deep breaths as he pulled himself together.

"What happened to you?" Gwen Tennyson exclaimed, pushing back the three teens and raising a hand to Presul's head.

"Stop!" Presul hissed, making Gwen jump back. "I…have to take this…I am alright…"

"What the…?" Beverly exclaimed, looking at a medical instrument. She had noticed high levels of chemical activity and muscle stress, indicating a burst of sorrow or sadness, but now they were in Presul, not the girl – and in identical levels.

"How did you do that?" Beverly exclaimed. "What did you do to her?"

"Doing my job," Presul exhaled, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Taking her sorrow."

"Taking what?" the three teens asked. Presul did not respond, but slowly walked out of the room, leaving those remaining stunned at what had just happened. The four new arrivals rushed out of the room, following Presul.

"Presul!" Volrack called out, stopping Presul. "Where are you going?"

"To recover," Presul said. "I've already had to absorb a huge amount of pain and sorrow, and I need to…"

"You have yet to explain to us a fact most important for all of us," Argdra demanded. "I am not alone in sensing that so many different dimensions, realities, para-universes, and endless other sheets of space and time have converged into one. The question you have so far failed to answer is why. We know that there are instances where one or two dimensions converge onto one another, sometimes more, but everything that is everything has collided. Why is this happening? Who has called for this convergence?"

"You're asking me something that has no answer, you fool!" Presul snarled. "I cannot know that, nor can anyone discover it, and you know it as well as I!" Presul stormed off with a limp, growling under his breath. The others were left standing there until Captain Jean Luc, Tony Stark, and Hal Jordan rushed out of the room.

"Where did he go?" Tony asked, looking left and right quickly. Presul was already gone, and Tony was not happy about it.

"If I were you," the taller human man in the 1800s attire said. "I would not follow him. It would be most unwise for you to do so."

"You guys know him?" Hal asked. "How so?"

"He was our commanding emperor for tens of thousands of years," the blonde woman explained. "He is quite the leader, but he's very unstable."

"And he has been so for as long as I can remember," the armored beast added. "Who are you to make such inquiries? Who do you think you are to meddle in such things?"

"Just a billionaire genius playboy philanthropist," Stark replied.

"Stark!" Jean Luc hissed. "What's the matter with you?!"

"Hey, I'm just giving Mr. Hades a straightforward answer," Stark replied.

"My name is Argdra," the armored monster growled.

"Okay, just giving Argdra a straightforward answer," Stark corrected. Turning to Argdra, he said, "And what about the rest of you? You all have names?"

"I'm Cefrin," the blond woman said.

"I'm Deronas," the man in the 1800s attire said.

"Volrack," was the Greek man's answer.

"What exactly do you guys do exactly, again?" Hal asked.

"We were following a powerful concentration of energy on Earth, when something unexplainable practically ripped the local space time," Argdra explained. "We were after several dangerous villains, guilty of Level Four war crimes, murder, inducing terror, and a list of other crimes longer than you would probably care to hear. Tell me Deronas, do you happen to remember some of those criminals' names?"

"Yeah," Deronas replied. "I remember Frollo, Scar…Maleficent, yeah that girl was a bitch, and um…Jafar, I want to say…"

"Maleficent?" Jean Luc asked. "Scar? Jafar? Those are names of imaginary figures – make-believe beings who never existed! They're all 20th and 21st century figments of imagination!"

"That was the case initially," Argdra replied. "However, the world which we come from, Vanreth, came into accidental contact with a young boy whose imagination, created from his exposure to what you would call, an 'idealist childhood,' had no limits. The collision between unlimited universal power and that boy's imagination created an entire new dimension within the existing dimension on Earth."

"A dimension within a dimension?" Hal asked.

"Precisely," Volrack replied. "And that dimension within a dimension was obviously too much strain on the local fabric of space time – and that's how we ended up here."

"Hey, there was something else I wanted to know," Stark said. "That girl who broke down screaming – you guys said something about a mind-to-mind reading or something like that. You know what was going on in her head?"

"We do," Cefrin said.

"Well, what was it?"

"We prefer not to say. It was a little bit…intimidating for many, to say the least…"

"Look, can you please just tell us?" Jean-Luc asked. "What did you see?"

"We're not going to say," Deronas replied sharply. "That information is better left undisclosed…"

"When Presul shot at me," Argdra interrupted. "The rest of you saw me being hit by fire. She saw a young human male take an arrow to the heart."

"Argdra!" Cefrin hissed loudly.

"There is no purpose in hiding information," Argdra growled.

"An arrow to the heart?" Hal asked. "How could she see something so different…"

"Post traumatic stress disorder," Stark realized. "She was obviously in some kind of a fight, something scarring beyond belief…"

"'Scarring beyond belief' is an understatement," Argdra cut in. "What she was involved in was something beyond barbaric. This was pure blood-spilling simply because her people's dictators have the power to do it."

Everyone else fell silent. There was nothing that anyone could say at Argdra's remarks.

"What kind of world could let this happen?" Stark whispered.

"One that has seen more bloodshed than most parallel worlds would ever see," Argdra softly hissed, stomping off. "In the bloodbath known as the Hunger Games."

transition

Back in the medial bay, the young girl Katniss had begun to recover when those outside walked in. The group of three teens were the only ones left besides Doctor Crusher, Riker, the lizard-man, and Sora.

"I hate to be rude," Doctor Crusher said as Stark, Jean-Luc, Deronas, and the others came in. "But this medical bay is not for crowd observation. So, would you all mind?" Stark rolled his eyes, but walked out, along with Hal. There was a soft rushing of wind, and Presul suddenly appeared in the medical bay, startling those there. The sorrow seemed to have disappeared from his eyes, replaced by the cold, calculating stare that he had initially arrived with.

"You three," Presul said to the group of three teens. "Just for future reference, what are your names?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," the girl said.

"Harry Potter," the boy with the lightning bolt scar said.

"Ron Weasley," said the ginger-headed boy.

"Thank you," Presul said. Nodding his head to the doors, he added, "Now you best follow the doctor's instructions." The three teens left without a word, but as Harry passed by Presul, a wave of memories crashed into Presul's mind. An evil Dark Lord…many friends and family dead…a dreadful army…tangled loves…a prophecy vague as fog…

Harry stumbled a little, but Presul caught him before he fell. Panting, Harry gasped, "How did you…"

"I instantly read the minds of any I come across," Presul explained. "So that I know everything about them, their strengths, weaknesses, memories, everything. Acts as a good tactical advantage but also helps me understand who I have to protect."

"Protect?" Harry asked quizzically. "By giving yourself every advantage and reducing the rest of us to ants under your heel?"

"No," Presul said. "You all are, rather, the children constantly targeted by the kidnapper – and I have to stop that kidnapper. Now, unless you did not hear me the first time, get a move on." Harry did not argue, but stared at Presul fiercely before walking out. Presul's eye caught Sora slipping out the door, and all that were left were Presul, Doctor Crusher, Katniss, the boy that had been with her, and the lizard-man, who was getting another assessment of her injuries.

"Presul, may I call you that?" Beverly asked as she scanned Katniss' temples. "Do you have any suffix?"

"No," Presul replied. "Just Presul. However, I have been called much worse…including Destroyer of Worlds, Blood Devourer, even Rapist of Life. Yes, you heard me right."

"Why?" Katniss' friend asked.

"Let's just say that many are scared of power," Presul explained as he approached Dr. Crusher and the others. "And mine is unlimited. Many are scared, and thus try to make me the enemy, to make me the target. What they fail to understand that they are just as much under my protection as everyone else in creation."

"Wait, what?" the lizard-man asked, standing up. "Protecting everyone in creation?"

"Yes," Presul said, leaning against a pillar. "What I basically am is a super-charged, killer-weapon, unbeatable, indestructible, unlimitedly empowered ultra-god, with the unending tasks of guarding the innocent and destroying that which bows to evil, but most importantly…guarding love."

"Guarding...love?" Beverly asked, her face very much displaying complete confusion. "How does that work?"

"Take these two," Presul said, gesturing towards Katniss and her friend. "My apologies, what were your names again?"

"Katniss," Katniss said. "And this is Peeta."

"Thank you," Presul said. "Anyway, take these two. There is a bond of love between them…"

"What?!" Peeta snapped. "We are not…"

"You cannot hide anything from me," Presul said. "There is a bond between you and Katniss, and you know it as well as I. You might not know this, but I have already read your entire memory banks, your emotions, everything. There is nothing about you two that I don't know."

"Jeez, you sound just like the National Security Agency," one of the medical workers in the medical bay said under her breath.

"I heard that!" Presul said. Even though he was fifty feet away, he had the ears of a super-fox. "And no, I'm not – but I get your point. In that sense, you are correct.

"Back to the original point," Presul went on. "There exists a strong bond between Katniss and Peeta. My task – let absolutely nothing break that bond or get in the way of it, at the cost of my own suffering and torture."

"That's it?" Peeta asked. "Just for us two?"

"No," Presul replied. "For every single being in every universe, every parallel, every multiverse, every Creation, you name it. I have to be there to suffer so that lovers do not have to."

"So…you're kind of suffering for our sins?" the lizard-man asked, rubbing his head.

Presul paused, thinking for a bit, before saying, "In a way, yes. What are you really implementing?"

"If you have to suffer so we don't have to, and taking the bullets and swords for us…" the lizard-man went on. "Then you're really…"

"What?" Presul half demanded. "Come on, just spit it out. Who do you think I am?" The lizard-man did not speak for a moment, but then Crusher broke the silence by saying, "You're the Savior? Jesus Christ?" Presul turned to her with genuine surprise, but then the surprise fell from his faith and said, "I've heard that more than once. But no, I am not Christ. The real Christ, for your information, is, in his free time, a flamboyantly gay, super sassy, ultra-fabulous makeup artist." Everyone's faces were scrunched in total confusion. Out of all the things that they expected to come out of Presul's mouth, this was the last thing on their list.

"He used to be the Messiah figure that ninety percent of people believe in," Presul added. "And although he does a great job at that, after…certain occurrences, he does not relish that task anymore."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I can sense a ruthless dictator ten galaxies about to murder an entire continent of innocents," Presul finished, his eyes swirling in that eerie power of his. In a flash of light and short-lived smoke, he was gone. A few seconds later, he appeared again and said, "Alright, taken care of. Now, where was I – wait, hold on!" He disappeared again, only to return six seconds later.

"Now where did you just go?" Beverly started to ask, but her face went white with horror. Presul was only gone a total of ten or eleven seconds, but half of his face was burned off, revealing the scratched skull underneath. His armor was burned and broken and torn apart. He was missing an arm and part of a leg, and as such he was leaning against a pillar for support. Blood soaked his body, and the bones of his biceps were clearly visible among the burned flesh on his arms and chest.

"What the hell happened to you?!" Katniss exclaimed.

"Doing my duty, as I had told you," Presul gasped. He shut his scorched eyes, and suddenly he was covered in purple flame. When it seceded, Presul was whole again – no missing limbs, no injuries, nothing. Beverly and Katniss' eyes went wide with highly obvious surprise.

"It really helps to be me," Presul said, pushing away from the pillar. "Anyway, I must be off – again. I want to speak with Admiral Acreb." With that, he turned and left the medical bay. As he left, the lizard-man had followed him and stopped Presul.

"How long were you really gone?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" Presul asked.

"You heard me right," the lizard-man hissed with his reptilian tongue. "How long were you really gone? It wasn't ten seconds, that I know." After a moment, Presul finally said, "Seven hundred and twenty three years. Time passes fast when you're saving the cosmos.

"What was your name?"

"I am Gargamesh," the lizard-man said. "From the world of Skyrim, Black Marsh province."

"Good to meet you, Dovakhin," Presul said. He looked around to see if anyone was nearby (there wasn't any) and he pulled Gargamesh in close and whispered, "I can sense an ungodly power within you – one I have not felt since some of my worst days. If you, intentionally or not, cause even the slightest bit of harm to any innocent, whether it be man, woman, or child, I will personally execute you in a heartbeat, and send you into the blackest oblivion you can't even dream of. Am I clear?"

"I do not need to fear you," Gargamesh hissed, pushing Presul back. "I have fought and defeated gods, destroyed Alduin the World-Eater, have literally been to death and back, have ended more wars than I can count, have saved all of Skyrim a dozen times, and have overthrown more undead warlords than I care to admit. What makes you think that I would be afraid of you?" To answer this, Presul's eyes glowed, and suddenly flashes of memories smashed into Gargamesh's mind. They were of death, destruction, of monsters like the Nightmare Child, the Titans, the Underworld, and a billion other monstrous creations that Presul had seen. The sheer power of the memories would have vaporized entire planets of people at once, but Presul let just enough out to hurt Gargamesh and send a clear message, but not to dissolve him or cause any permanent damage.

"That is why," Presul growled as Gargamesh fell to the floor, gasping for breath. There was a flurry of wind, and Presul had vanished – again.

transition

Back in the medical bay, Katniss asked Doctor Crusher, "What is it with that guy?"

"Who? Presul?" Beverly asked. "Truthfully, I have no idea, but what I can tell you that I would not want to come up against him in a fight…"

"But was it true what he was saying?" Peeta asked. "If he really as powerful as he says he is…"

"Look," Beverly cut in. "I'm not saying I believe him entirely, but I can tell you this – never in my entire life have I been so sure that I have stood face to face with the Savior. That I can tell you." As Beverly finished up her examination, her words rang in her mind, and would continue to, for as long as she would live.

Which may or may not be very long.