xiii

‘This….this is a little different from your older homes. We had to - move you. The world outside is changing, and they’ll notice, eventually, that you never do. I brought you here, too, for another reason. This is about the End Times - the ending of their Time. I know, -’ Death looked at her seriously, ‘I know you want to give them more Time, that you think they’ll find a way, their own, another path - but I once stood in your spot, for others, before the humans. It didn’t work then. I won’t begrudge your efforts, but I cannot support them at the expense of pruning that needs to begin elsewhere.'

She nodded. She understood Him, she always had. She knew this was a Benevolence not easily bestowed by Death. ‘I thought - The Precedent - maybe, they didn’t see enough. Maybe, I can show them the Precipice. How bad things can be.’

'He nodded, understanding her Proposition. "‘Do you think they’ll walk back, or jump in?’

She shrugged. ‘Giving them this choice - it’s the best I can do. And after that, I’ll help you with that pruning.’

He smiled. A quick study. I hope she learns what she needs to from this. Other things loom on the horizon now.

xii

'Welcome home,' Death said, as He greeted her. 'I wanted to surprise you when you came home.' He paused a moment, waiting for her reaction. 'I know it's not the same here, as where you used to live...'

She smiled and grasped his bony arm. Everywhere around her were statues, ossuary instances of what was, decayed to weathered bones, in poses like old Roman statues, with flowers and roots curving and carving their way, like flesh with a new purpose.

xi

‘Death, Demarcated,’ she grinned. ‘I’ve found a way to record everything. Knowing what we know now, about souls, their transference, their inability to be….accurate…I think it’s important to have a tangible Record of Reality.’

Death looked at the Spheres she set in to the Ground. ‘A pet project?’ He asked.

‘A small one, from before, but now…maybe now it can help them, or at least in the Future.’

Death looked on His Pupil and what she had set up: A scattering of orbs, small stones, as a grid.

‘And what will it do?’

‘Record,’ she smiled. ‘Record everything. So I can review it, later on, when I have time. If I know more about what they enjoy, like, pursue, and about how they eventually end up in the dirt themselves…’ she looked at Him.

‘Maybe you can help them find better paths?’

‘If they remember the lessons.’

x

She sat with Death, at the top of the lighthouse, her legs dangling over the edge, his robes and boney toes hanging next to hers. They watched the Light circle the town, and the incoming Sea, the approaching waves breaking against the Shore. And she could see it - eons moving by in minutes, the same deaths repeating, over and over again, humanity and life trapped in a warped cycle of collision. Unending errors, unending waves of dissatisfaction with reality.

She turned and looked at the Lighthouse, slowing the Light it cast out, slowing it enough that it stilled on one spot in town. ‘I'll see you later,’ she said, turning to Death. ‘There's something new I want to try.’

ix

‘If Heaven is built from Sorrow, or as a refuge - it may as well be Hell.’ She looked at Death, and lingered on the Hollow of His Eyes, the small delicate grooves of bone of His orbital sockets. ‘These Souls need more. They kept coming back, returning, halting a physical Hell from reaching the ones they love in Heaven.’ She put her coffee down on the table, waiting for Him to answer.

For once, He didn’t seem ready to.

viii

‘You need relativity to Understand,” Death told her. ‘A point of Stillness. A Cosmic Singularity with which to compare your data.’

‘From the Mirrorverse?’

‘From all of it,’ He said.

She thought for a Moment. ‘Self. DNA. A conflux of postulation. As Life Begins (past trajectory moving forward), Death Begins (future trajectory moving in reverse). They play the genome as a melody. Each note an action. Each step in the dance a plotted, graphed, demarcation path through matter.’

‘Wonderful start,’ He said. ‘And Our Planet?’

She looked at Him. ‘A path through the Stars. Yet stationary, still, unending. Observational.’

‘For now,’ He mused.

viii

Death looked at her. Her trees all planted. He could see what she could see now, finally. It had taken one of the Living to See the last piece of the Universe He could not.

His hollow eye sockets gazed at the Field before them. ‘Do you see them now? They ley lines? Where every Soul crosses and Converges? I think there are more degrees of Separation here, in this Containment Field. A place to…’ she let off for Him to finish.

‘To bury the Dead.’ He turned to her. ‘But for how long?’

vii

‘Can you feel them,’ she said, turning to Death. ‘They're almost here.’

He looked at her, slightly concerned. She had been the only soul He had been able to recall. I chose right. I hope she chooses right, too.

She turned her hand and a plant died. She smiled. Soon, she thought. They'll be back soon.

vi

He looked at her. He saw the Shadow growing behind her.

‘My dear, what did you do?’

‘I made an agreement,’ she replied. ‘I - . I know you won't approve but…I found the Past. . .I…I spoke with it. I made an agreement.’

‘My dear,’ He said? ‘The Past?’ He smiled. ‘Well, I was not expecting that.’

v

‘It’s an arch,’ she said. She put down her coffee and turned to Death. ‘What do you think?’

‘It’s made of Stars,’ He said flatly, unaware of what she did.

‘I know. What do you think?’

‘How did you…’

‘I told you I was working overtime,’ she gazed at Him, waiting for His answer.

‘I….I don’t know. What’s its Purpose?’

‘Expansion. I needed more room. More containment. More time. I started some new constellations to arch the Souls through.’

‘I…,’ He turned to her. ‘What did you make them from?’

‘Old souls. Ones in storage. It was like-’

‘Knitting?’ He finished for her.

‘I was gonna say embroidery, but, yea, why not? Knitting.’

iv

‘It's a matter of size, scale, and perspective,’ He told her. ‘What you're looking to do has never been done before. There are too many parameters in place, too many-’

‘Obstacles?’ she cut him short.

‘Obstacles,’ He nodded.

iii

‘Fractals, my dear,’ he said to her.

They were sitting on the curb at Times Square.

‘What about them?’ she murmured back, turning a page in her book.

‘What do you think we are here for, today?’

She looked up slowly, finishing her book’s last paragraph. ‘The end, I suppose.’

‘The end of what?’

‘Another life.’

He smiled curtly at her. ‘Think again, and then -’

‘Oh God,’ she stammered, horrified. ‘Is this a math lesson??’

He smiled broadly now. ‘What can we learn?’

He immediately appeared on the other side of the street, opposite to her, to where He had been sitting a moment before.

‘Times Square,’ she said.

‘Times Square,’ He smiled.

ii

“Particle continuement,” He insisted.

She stared blankly.

“Their energy folds. They will not consciously experience the trajectory of their matter as SpaceTime moves around itself. Their Sentience, Their Form, Their Soul-”

‘Waits.’

He nodded, patiently as always.

i

“So…What’d God do? After the angels fell.”

Death looked at Her. He wasn’t sure She was Ready to Know. He steeled Himself against Her Eyes. She was the only person alive that could make Him flinch. “He fractured them. Or, their fall fractured them. No one really knows. Their…disobedience, their, willingness to help…He thought it overrode the Human’s Free Will. So-.”

“So He left us here,” she finished for Him. “To pick up our own pieces. While the humans…”

“While the humans use their Free Will. But now…Now the humans think they are stronger than us. They think they can Encage us. Sort us like their AI and Algorithms. Call upon Us in Times of Darkness, when Earth Begins to Enter the Void, again.”

“Again?” She quoted Him.

“Again,” He nodded tertly.