In supplication she kneels, her head bowed to the departing Nine.
“It’s an end, it’s a beginning,” Zero whispers behind her.
Two tries turning, but her head locks in place, her knees still bent.
“Is it?” she asks, softly.
“You watch,” he says, “It’ll be a year like no other.”
Time flies, and she sits motionless, feeling Zero’s breath upon her neck. It is a year of chaos and calm, disease and death. It is a year like no other. Zipping past one minute and motionless the next.
There are moments she thinks that they are being pursued by their own images – ghosts that dog their footsteps. Yet she cannot help but kneel, praying for better days.
“Shift up,” Zero blurts suddenly, “One is pushing in.”
She gives up her position reluctantly, dragging Zero with her. But she leaves their shadows in place. They too are being chased. But this time, One holds something in his hand.
“What is it?” she asks Zero in an undertone.
“Hope,” he whispers back.
