"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety. Other women cloy
The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies."

Enobarbus (Antony and Cleopatra, Act 2, Scene 2)

I'm trapped in a never-ending nightmare. I'm running, top speed, risking falling and breaking every bone I have. But I'm running through jelly, and while time flies around me, I'm going in complete slow motion. And the crowd, full of long red cloaks, pays me no mind as I weave through them in a panic. I hear every tick of the enormous clock tower. Every breath of mine matches the shifting of the minute hand. Relentless, uncaring, unknowing, it moves closer to the end.

To his end.

Alice said there is a chance that I'll die here with him. That every effort of mine will be in vain, and that suffering is in all of our futures. I can't help but feel that, if she weren't trapped by the rays of the sun, things might end differently - I'm the only one who is able to race across the cobblestone without being noticed.

And God, I can't run fast enough.

I can feel the eyes of our enemy on me. Judging. Praying. Waiting for me to fall, for me to slip-up. So they can be rid of me, be rid of him. Be rid of all of us. The clock strikes the hour, vibrating under my feet and through the air. I'm too late... and in the wings, thirsty eyes in the darkest shades of red appear. I can't even bring myself to hate them. I'd rather die than live knowing I failed to save him.

The clock tolls again. Slowly, Edward steps into the sunlight.