your dreams are all full of war
you are from another time
Oh, Melita recalled and remembered – so maybe they were remnants of what had been left behind – lingering collections of discord, strife, and power, so the world would still remember the Voice. The Honeybee figured no one would forget the New God, not after the drama, violence, and vehemence brought forth all because she’d once existed, but people tended to forge onward, memories bleak, traumas unbidden. So she nodded, looking ahead, dodging another bramble of thorny brush.you are from another time
Only a light snort accompanied the metal remark, but the interior portions still left her perplexed – vague moments amidst the trails of obsidian, and then rooms upon rooms, doors upon doors, locked or otherwise. “Or anything else.” An inquiry came to her soon after, though she probably should’ve thought of it long ago – but there’d been too many other things at stake. The curiosity wasn’t out of cruelty, but merely wondering – chancing a glance at Sunjata again, as it would’ve involved Nate’s, and scores of others, existences. “Where do you think all the Ascended souls went?” Disappeared with the Voice? Scattered somewhere else?
salvation doesn't look like light
So what remains?
So what remains?
Melita
