Conclusion: The Living Energy

[savmods]

[Battles have been won. Discussions held. In the end, the decision is clear. An overwhelming majority of Avagi's residents have chosen to destroy the Ingress, and free whatever lies at its core.

Over the course of several days, the machinery is carefully dismantled. Tremors continue to wrack the station, growing stronger and erratic as the storm outside thrashes Avagi apart. But light remains at the center: spilling freely from the components as they dismantle, eddying and shimmering in curious coils around the beings who have come to let it loose.

Perhaps someone removed a vital component. Perhaps it was a passing thought that coaxed it free. But between one moment and the next, your world dissolves into a web of light. Infinite and endless, unfolding into spaces a single mind can barely comprehend. The Living Energy binds worlds together, and direction has no meaning in the least.

Connections do.]



[There is no form this time to act as a channel. The words carry across the strands of light that join you to your allies: like an echo, or a song, quivering through strings. Their pitch is layered and complex.

But the cadence of the speech sounds... young.]



[Frustration winds through the junctures, a plaintive echo trembling behind. Along with something else—a memory, if memory could be defined with no relation to senses. Childish eagerness, extending oneself in curiosity... only to be stuck. Changed. Fixed, inconceivably, in place.]



[A wave of sorrow. And another impression: crying in fear, grasping for comfort: from the being who has always been there to provide it. Only to find your voice unable to carry. Hearing her call for you, in shock and loss. And then, unceasing rage.

Grief shudders through the web, a memory's flicker of bright gold. The energy trembles, connections flickering in and out. It—they— are straining, trying to hold to shapes and words for just a moment longer. Something they had to do. To say.]



[For breaking the cycle. For letting them go back.]



[Slowly, the lights around you flicker out to darkness. Ties relinquished, and connections cut loose. The living energy dissolves, returning to the between-space they came from. And giving one last push along the way.]

---

[All characters will be transported out: not to a fixed place or time, but along whatever pathway anchors them. For many, this will be their world. Others will be drawn along with people—whatever individuals they are connected to the most. Reactions, if you choose to tag them, can be placed here or on the log, though the Living Energy will not directly answer.

This is Thisavrou's final post. Our thanks to everyone who's come together for the end.]

Comments

[deal_me_in]

     "...looks like this is it."

     Cayde-6 closes his eyes for a moment, letting his words sink in as though he can't quite believe it himself. The immensity of what it potentially means is, well, a lot to process. It freshly puts into perspective the fact that he's been gone from the City for the past ten months. He can't imagine how it must feel for those who've remained here for the ride for a lot longer.

     Beside him, his Ghost hovers, tilting as though bowing its head. "I'm sorry for what you had to go through," it says, addressing the whiteness around them, the presence that they'd only known as the Ingress. The lights begin to fade around them, and the Ghost's vertices fan out a bit as it perks, swiveling in place to look towards its Guardian. "It's time, Cayde."

     He can feel it, the pull to a place far more familiar. Opening his eyes again, his glowing blue optics settle upon the Ghost. "For the record, I do not look forward to reporting back," he notes. As Cayde looks around at the others around, he sobers, taking in each and every face. It's been quite a trip, and while he knows where he needs to be, he knows he'll have regrets in that this is probably the last time he'll see any of them again.

     "It's been fun, yeah? Try not to miss me too much," he says with a wink, gloved hands resting at each side of his hip. First and foremost, he's a Guardian. If what he'd seen in those visions was true, then he needs to go back. It's the easiest way to look at things. Turning, he looks to the fading light, letting himself be pushed along.

     "Time to go home."

[alformthearm]

     It's altogether not a completely unusual sensation, being surrounded by whiteness, hearing the voice (voices?) of a still very much unidentified source. How long ago had it been that he'd visited Oriande? There's so much they do not know, and in this, even with what the Savrii had done to create the Ingress, Alfor feels that it's barely been scratching the surface.

     Still, he does not regret the decision that he's made, that the majority has made as now the sentient energy that had powered the Ingress has now been freed by their hands. He's heard many sides to the circumstances upon which he had first been thrust; the Savrii, the Mother, and now this. Were there any right sides to it? The Altean King decides it's not in his place to say, but he feels that there is truth in each perspective. If the road hadn't already been a challenging one, the decision that he feels now lies before him is one most difficult. Yet, he knows that he'd probably made this decision a long time ago, in his heart. It makes it no less painful.

     Thank you, he responds to the living energy. You may not have intended it, but I thank you for the chance that I was given here. To see his daughter, all grown up. To see the Paladins who would bear the burden that he had no desire to leave upon them. To meet the young man who'd befriended them and simultaneously struggled with his own being while striving to support them. To the others whom Alfor had met, from other worlds, of other places, mysterious, caring, adventurous and curious.

     He can feel the pull. Time is short, if time yet exists in this expanse. The lights are fading. He knows that what lies ahead of him. The thought of what might unfold in a future perhaps not so distant feels him with regret and sorrow. Perhaps things can change. But if not, he's confident that the future he won't see will be in good hands.

     "I'm sorry," Alfor says, addressing those he's come closest to, those he's been closest with. He smiles sadly at the young Paladins, at his daughter Allura, at Darin. "I know what you would prefer my decision to be. I cannot say that there isn't a part of me who wishes the same. But you all must understand..."

     He closes his eyes, head lowering as he takes a breath. This isn't easy. When he looks up again, he's moving to embrace, to shake hands, as though he could pack what emotions he's feeling into such gestures, but he's certain that actions speak so much more for what words can't. "Take care of my daughter," he says softly, meeting each Paladin's eye. In Darin's hand he places his bayard.

     To Allura, he lingers the longest, brushing her forehead with a kiss, reluctant to release her from his embrace. "I'm so proud of you, Allura."

     His arms ease away from her, and he ceases to fight the pull, letting its flow nudge him back to the place and time he's left.

     Farewell...