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Kneeling on the cold, unforgiving stones of the Caves of the Damned, Rebbec took a slow breath and tried to calm her racing heart. Death was fast approaching; the rumbling overhead was growing louder all the time, and plumes of dust were beginning to float down from the ceiling, covering her once bright robes in a layer of dull powder. All around her lay the bodies of those too injured to drag themselves to safety. Terrible as it was, Rebbec felt almost relieved knowing they would die with her. Had she been truly alone down here, she was not at all sure she could have gone through with this last sacrifice.
Though it was hardly a sacrifice, given the alternative. When the dust finally settled, the dead would be the lucky ones.
She rose to her feet, feeling the sting of grit in one hand as she awkwardly tried to steady herself. Her other hand still clutched the powerstone, beaming as brightly as the portal in the dim cavern. Even as she turned her watering eyes away from its brilliance, she heard her husband’s voice, speaking to her from within.
It is almost over, my love. Go quickly now, so we may ensure Yawgmoth is sealed away before the end. Do not let the destruction of our people be in vain. Do not let my death be in vain.
“I know, Glacian,” Rebbec whispered to the darkness. “I know.” Just in front of her, a large cloud of dust and stones rained down from overhead. It was not enough to obscure her view of the portal. The archway emitted a gentle glow, its light creeping out into the cavern and illuminating the motionless forms of the dying, the sinister outlines of the automatons just behind it. Fear burned in her chest and made her breaths come in near gasps, but she forced her feet into motion nonetheless, beginning her slow walk to the pedestal.
It was fortunate that the powerstone shone so brightly; without its light, she would have tripped on the debris long before reaching the portal’s light. But after a few near misses on the treacherous ground, Rebbec managed to stumble the last few steps to the pedestal. She stood rooted in place, transfixed by the scene before her.
This close, she could clearly see through the portal to the world beyond. Phyrexia lay there in all its terrible beauty, an unearthly paradise of clear skies and lovely trees. The grass seemed to stretch away forever, rippling in what must have been a faint, refreshing breeze. It seems so peaceful, Rebbec thought wonderingly. Even now.
It was a beautiful sight, despite her knowledge of the horrors hidden within. For a moment, Yawgmoth’s voice echoed in her mind, his grand plans for rebirth inspiring hope rather than fear. Can the denizens of such a place really be so terrible? She knew that they were; she had seen it with own eyes. But is death really preferable to life on Phyrexia, when so many people have willingly fled into its embrace?
For a moment, her resolve faltered, and she took a half step back, considering. Can I really doom myself and my people to death when there is still a chance for them to live? She turned to look at the still forms behind her. Some were clearly dead, but a few still stirred, however faintly. The death cloud cannot be far off now. But if I started right away, I might save a few.
Looking back at the portal, Rebbec’s eyes were drawn once more to the sky, a swath of soft blue over the beautiful meadow. As beautiful as the sky over Halcyon. Despite herself, Rebbec lifted a hand toward the light. She would have touched it were it not for Glacian’s sharp reprimand in her mind.
Rebbec, do not let him tempt you again! Yawgmoth fooled you once, but now that you know what he is really like, you cannot allow anything of his a place in your heart. Look closer at his paradise, and you will see that it is no place for you.
But even as he spoke, Rebbec’s eyes finally drifted to the distorted growths of the buildings and the alien figures moving among them. Thran and Phyrexians together, it seemed, though it was hard to tell from so far away. With a shudder, she realized that her own people were the ones she could not distinguish, lost in the masses of the Phyrexian horde.
She had spent the past decade working tirelessly for them, building and perfecting her temple, only for them to end up here. Alive, but not really. A life lived only to serve Yawgmoth is hardly a life at all.
And to think I considered sending more to join him.
Blinking away tears, Rebbec drew back a step and wiped her eyes with her free hand. At least I can avenge them now.
“I know it is no place for us, Glacian,” she said sadly, lowering her eyes. “I know what Yawgmoth has done. It is just so difficult, to stand here and see the trees and sky on the other side. And our people. I will never see any of them again, after the portal is closed.” It was hardly true, for they lay all around the cavern, but she somehow doubted that Glacian would care for her real thoughts. She clasped the stone to her chest and gazed once more into the depths of Phyrexia. And I do not care for them either. Perhaps, if I try hard enough, I will convince myself of these words before the end. “I am trying to remember our own land, our own people, as they were before he destroyed them. This is the only way I know how.”
Rebbec. Glacian was gentle but firm in her mind. This is no time for sentiment. It is now or never. We cannot let Yawgmoth win.
Rebbec shook her head. “You do not have to tell me, husband. It will be alright. I just want a few more moments to look at the sky and speak to you-”
A shadow moved at the portal’s edge, and a voice asked, “Why settle for moments, Rebbec, when you could have lifetimes? Have you given up on yourself so easily?”
Within the stone, Glacian cursed. Feeling suddenly cold, Rebbec looked up to meet Yawgmoth’s eyes.
So much for remembering the world as it was.
He appeared just as he had when he first arrived in Halcyon all those years ago. She could recall the day so clearly it was almost painful; she had been full of hope then, convinced that he would be the one to save Glacian. So blind, in hindsight, though how could I have known what he was capable of? He was a stranger, and I had no choice but to invite him in. She had washed his feet, and he had looked down on her then as he did now, eyes calm and searching, considering her with cold interest. Standing as he was, as close to the portal as he could get without crossing to her side, she could almost feel the chill of the water on her hands.
But this time, my eyes are open. Yawgmoth was giving her a sad smile, but Rebbec could see now how forced it looked, and she had to wonder if the facade had always been so obvious. Even as he pretended to smile at her, his eyes fixed on the stone, still clutched tightly to her chest. She tried her best to look brave, to show Yawgmoth that he had not yet won, but the intensity of his gaze forced her back a step instead.
“It doesn’t have to end this way,” he said, and to Rebbec his voice seemed earnest, pleading- but she wouldn’t fall for that again, not so easily. “Come with me, Rebbec, and see how your people have ascended. See what we have become.”
“I have seen already,” she replied coldly, meeting his gaze. Glacian was shrieking for her to close the portal, but Rebbec was certain Yawgmoth would not give up his immortality to cross to their side. She needed to speak with him one last time, for her own sake if nothing else. “You have taken away their humanity, made them into monsters- ”
“Into Phyrexians,” he corrected, his smile growing with genuine pride. “Into gods . Rebbec, I have cured the Thran of their mortality, their natural weakness, and enhanced them beyond their wildest dreams. Surely you can find no fault with that?” Rebbec had thought he was as close to the portal as possible, but he moved even closer, his eyes dark and intent. Despite herself, she drew back another step and stumbled, nearly falling over a chunk of ragged stone. “My only goal,” he continued softly, “is to improve the lives of my people in whatever way I can. Just like you.”
Oh, he can’t be serious. He can’t really think I’ll believe this nonsense. “I am nothing like you. My plans, my dreams, would never have led to this.”
“No?” Yawgmoth tilted his head, studying her with cold, pitiless eyes. “It seems to me, Rebbec, that your grand dreams of ascension are precisely what inspired this.”
Though his smile remained, an edge of malice had entered his voice as he continued, “You Thran all think the same way. As far as you and Glacian are concerned, your ideas are all perfect and harmless and serve no other purpose than the betterment of society. And I’m sure part of you believes that. But deep down, you know it’s a farce.”
Or perhaps he can. All of a sudden there was a hollow ringing in Rebbec’s ears, distorting even Glacian’s voice. Her face felt hot. She stared stupidly up at Yawgmoth, lips slightly parted, and he barked a laugh, shaking his head as though gravely disappointed. Perhaps he is. Perhaps he expected an immediate denial, a fierce rejection. And why did I not give him one? It’s not as though what he says is true. I doubt he is even capable of telling the truth.
Yet she remained frozen in place, her expression slowly slipping from defiance to fear, and felt a cold twisting in her gut. She did not want to hear his next words, but she could not bring herself to stop him.
His expression was the furthest thing from earnest now; contempt was written into every feature. At last he said, “Let us skip the arguments, then, Rebbec, and get straight to the point. At the end of the day, we both know that you are an ignorant, foolish girl who pretended generosity as a means of earning love and glory from her people. Your dreams , yours and your husband’s, were always the first priority. Can you honestly tell me that Halcyon would have had a better fate at your hands, caught between your husband’s poisoned mana rig and your abomination of a temple?” His eyes bored into hers, and for all Glacian’s wailing, Rebbec found that she remained pinned by his gaze, unable to move either to trap him or to escape him. “Beneath the masks, are we really all that different?”
A long silence passed. A long silence, until Rebbec finally found her voice and the words she needed. A simple answer, really. One she had already given. “We are nothing alike.” A low rumble passed through the entire chamber, and she rolled forward a step to keep her balance. She lifted her chin, letting the fear melt from her face, the confidence return to her posture. “No one else in all the world- in all the multiverse, even- is half as much of a monster as you are.”
And it’s true. Next to him, anyone would look like a saint. And Glacian and I are hardly anyone; our lives were dedicated to helping people, after all.
Just as my death will be, when I close the portal.
“And that is why you must lock me away,” he said with mock sadness, as though reading her thoughts. To Rebbec’s unease, he seemed more amused than worried by the prospect. “But I do not really think that you will, Rebbec. Whatever you say, whatever sort of hero you fancy yourself to be, the fact remains that you are far too self-absorbed to really consider throwing your life away. Not when there’s an out.” He smiled then, and held out his hands as though to welcome her in. “Just admit it. Admit your role in creating Phyrexia, and I will let you claim your place within it.”
Another silence descended in the cold, hard chambers of the Caves of the Damned.
Rebbec should have been ready to reject the offer outright, but somehow found she could not. It made no sense, of course; she had decided on death long before Yawgmoth appeared in the portal. And yet she could not make the words come. They stuck in her throat, turned to ashes in her mouth. She opened her mouth, and nothing came out.
In the end, the silence was broken not by her impassioned refusal, but by the low creaking and hissing of the shifting rock above growing into a sudden roar.
Horrified, Rebbec whipped her head up to stare at the ceiling. Dust was now falling in a near constant rain, and the showers of small stones that accompanied it had grown alarmingly in size. The death cloud had to be almost upon them. She needed to act, and she needed to do it now .
With an effort of will, she tore her eyes away from the ceiling and focused once again on the pedestal. It was with some horror that she noticed how much she had backed away since Yawgmoth first appeared. It lay just beyond her reach.
You need to act now , Rebbec, Glacian said urgently. Though he was hardly more than a voice in her head, Rebbec could sense the fear in his words, like he was only just holding back panic. We are out of time.
Before her, Yawgmoth was laughing, his smile gleaming through the drifting dust. “Well, Rebbec? What do you say?”
“I will never-” she began, but a larger rock suddenly whizzed past, clipping her shoulder on its way down. She fell to the ground with a cry, nearly dropping the powerstone.
There’s no time left to talk. I’m not moving fast enough.
“Just accept it, Rebbec.” Panicking now, she scrambled to her knees as quickly as she could, heedless of the pain in her shoulder and bloodied hands. “All you have to do is admit what we both know already, and I will let you come live with me in paradise. You will live , Rebbec. Your dreams are still within reach.”
The cavern roared, as though displeased with his words. A heavy, deadly stone glanced off the edge of the portal and took out one of the still automaton guards behind it. There was a scream of metal as the thing’s head was torn from its shoulders.
It’s coming apart too fast.
Before her, the empty pedestal commanded her attention. It was the only dream left to her now. It stood mere feet away.
I can do this. Just place the stone, Rebbec. It isn’t hard. Place the stone, and it will all be over.
As if that wasn’t the problem.
Above her, Yawgmoth’s eyes glittered out of the portal, darkly amused as they swept over her kneeling form. Cold water on my hands. He looks down at me and smiles-
No. I’m better than that. I have to do this. For all of us.
I will make sure the Thran did not fall in vain.
Rising to her feet, Rebbec tried to muster the last of her courage and failed. It was through tears that she glared into Yawgmoth’s smug face.
“I will never join you,” she said. A sob forced itself from her throat. It was a disgrace, to cry before Yawgmoth like this, but even now, an odd sense of peace was stealing over her. Shock, maybe. Hard to believe this was the end. It felt like a lifetime had passed since she fled to this pit. Since she had first approached the portal. Since I decided I would die rather than join him.
“Then why wait so long, Rebbec? Surely I could never tempt an innocent person. Not one with your knowledge, anyway.”
She swallowed hard. The words burned her throat as she finally forced them out. “I am not… I am not innocent in all this, either.”
“No?”
“No,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. She blinked, and the tears fell, a final admission of guilt. A moment of honesty, before the end. How poetic. She stepped up to the pedestal, raised the hand holding the stone. One last sacrifice, she thought. But how lucky I will be to die.
The dead are the lucky ones, after all.
There was a pulse of relief from the powerstone. Thank you, Rebbec. Thank you.
It’s coming to an end too fast. But there was nothing to do for it now. Nowhere to go but forward.
As the roaring overhead reached its peak, Rebbec brought the stone down.
Before she could place it, Yawgmoth caught her hand.
It took her a long, awful moment to realize what had happened. A moment of trying to move her hand the last few inches, trying to get the stone to its final resting place, before realizing her arm was not moving and then, with some horror, feeling it drawn past the pedestal, even as she struggled. Instead, it was pulled toward the portal. Toward Yawgmoth, who stood just in front of it. On her side.
Smiling faintly, he pried the stone from her fingers- her weak, traitorous fingers. Glacian gave a final cry in her mind, and then he was gone, ripped away with a swiftness and violence that left her stunned. She stood alone before Yawgmoth in the dark, cold, unforgiving cavern.
He chuckled, shook his head in amusement. “How fortunate for me, that it took you so long to work that out.”
Then, in a casual show of strength, he reached around her and heaved them both through the portal.
There was a fleeting moment, as they were first pulled into the space between worlds, where Rebbec could still see the Caves of the Damned. The white cloud swept into the cavern behind them, and Rebbec fancied she could hear the dying moans of the last of the Thran, echoing back from her own world. Remember them as they were…
But the vision was torn away a moment later, and before she knew it she was falling heavily forward, falling into the soft, sweet grass of Phyrexia.
She lay there dazed, perhaps for a moment, perhaps longer, unable to think through the pounding in her head. Her vision swam with smudges of blue and black and purple. The colors of flowers, she was sure, though Rebbec could not remember seeing a black flower before. A curious thing. Dimly, she wondered whether Yawgmoth had changed the flowers as he changed everything else on his world, or if it was merely a trick of her eyes. For a moment, having the answer seemed all that really mattered; the next, she could scarcely find the energy to care.
But when clarity finally returned it was with awful swiftness. She blinked once, twice, her vision clearing, her thoughts sharpening. Then panic set in. Before she knew it she was on her feet again, shock turned to wretched desperation.
She saw Yawgmoth, through eyes swimming with tears, and a belated scream tore from her throat. Her eyes fixed on the stone, and she lurched towards it, lunging forward even as Yawgmoth shifted his arm away. A simple, mocking motion to match the indulgent little smile on his face. She would never beat him, not here on Phyrexia, but Rebbec saw no other way forward. It was too late, but it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be- this couldn’t be the end, not now, not like this-
She cried out, lunged again, clawed desperately at Yawgmoth’s arm, but he was the god of this world, and even if there had been a cavern to return to, there was nothing she could do to pry the stone from his fingers. Her efforts inspired nothing more than mocking laughter.
He’s enjoying himself , she thought vaguely as she lurched past him for the dozenth time. A foolish observation, but the more obvious it became, the more horrid it was to admit. He’s laughing at my efforts to take the stone, even knowing what I intend to do with it.
Another pass, another miserable failure. She nearly tripped over a clump of dirt turned up in an earlier exchange. Her feet slipped in the long grass, and she had to scramble to stay upright, waving her arms to steady herself.
And why wouldn’t he laugh? It’s not like there’s any chance of me succeeding.
It’s not like there’s any hope of stopping him.
My time was borrowed to begin with. It ran out in the cavern, and it is running out even now. I can never get it back.
I threw it away, and I can never get it back.
Some time later, Yawgmoth at last tired of the game and gave a deceptively gentle push to her back as she stumbled past him. The force of it sent her to her knees. Her head brushed the ground as she struggled in vain to push herself up again, to make one last stand, one final effort to reclaim the stone. But she was spent, and instead she found herself crumpling to the ground. It was over. She was lying motionless before the portal once more.
What a sight she must have been. Proud, beautiful Rebbec, the Architect of Ascension, crumpled in a heap at the feet of her enemy. Her beautiful robes were damp with sweat, streaked liberally with dirt and grass and stone powder. Her hands were torn and bloody from one too many impacts with the hard ground, and though she could not see them, the stinging in her knees seemed to imply that they were little better. Her eyes were red and puffy from tears, her nose dripping snot, her very face contorted with exhaustion and defeat. She closed her eyes and tried to will the thoughts away. She had better things to concern herself with. Slowly, gingerly, she turned over and stared up at the sky instead.
Curse the sky. If not for its beauty, would she still have hesitated to place the stone? Would this still have been the end of her story?
Rebbec closed her eyes and let the tears run down her face. Knowing the answer made it no easier for her to bear.
“Why?” she asked finally, when she had at last unstuck her throat and found she could speak without her voice breaking. Her own guilt may have been too difficult to swallow, but luckily there was a greater monster in this, a greater target for her pain. Yawgmoth opened his mouth to answer, but Rebbec pressed on desperately, needing to get the words out while she still could. “I thought you would never risk it. Death, I mean. Mortality. I never thought you would leave Phyrexia.” She turned to look at him, but new tears welled in her eyes, making it difficult to discern his expression. “So why did you risk it all to stop me?”
“Ah.” She could tell, even without looking at him, that his face would be smug, patronizing. He was savoring his victory, and not even attempting to hide it. “Interesting question”
She felt him lower himself to the grass next to her, and a moment later, his fingers brushed through her hair. She tried to pull away, but found that she lacked the energy to do so. Perhaps he was already exerting his will over her, using his godhood to subdue her final rebellion. It hardly mattered. Her life- her freedom, at the very least- was unlikely to survive the hour regardless.
“You see, Rebbec, it was very important for me to stop you. I would have preferred persuasion, of course, but you refused to comply. So I had to step through for a moment.”
When she failed to offer a comment, he went on, “There were any number of reasons to stop you. For instance, while I have little doubt that I eventually could have found another way to reach Dominaria, I have rather exhausted my patience these past few years, and I had no intention of being locked away for any length of time. Saving you was a plus as well- you and your husband never cease to fascinate me.” He paused a moment, stroking her hair, then said, “But that is not the real reason. No. I never would have taken such a risk for anything less than this .”
Slowly, Rebbec turned her head to see Yawgmoth holding up the powerstone, examining it with bright, gleeful eyes. “As I was rushing to the portal to stop you, I caught the tail end of your conversation- a conversation with no one , as far as I could tell. But the stone caught my eye, and I suddenly remembered all your husband’s ramblings about powerstones containing vast spaces within them. My own stonechargers draw from the same concept, of course, and yet it never occurred to me to wonder what else could charge them.” Still smiling, he shook his head, as if to dismiss his past misstep. “It was a tough pill to swallow, of course- I am a physician, after all- but it occurred to me that the stone might have absorbed something of Glacian. His essence, shall we say?”
“His soul,” Rebbec replied numbly. Suddenly she did not want to hear the rest of Yawgmoth’s story, but she could hardly stop him now. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the pain to come.
“Yes, if you insist on calling it that. Whatever the case, I realized that this stone contains just what I’ve been looking for all along.”
Light glinted off the red facets of the stone. Rebbec knew the words before he spoke them, but that did not stop her from wishing they were something else.
“The ability to become a planeswalker. A… spark, Dyfed called it.”
Oh, husband. I am so sorry.
“I believe,” he continued, a huge smile spreading over his face, “that, given enough time, I can find a way to take Glacian’s planeswalking ability and make it my own. Today, I am the god of Phyrexia. With this, I will make myself a god on all worlds.”
He stared at her, his smile so wide it was almost grotesque, and inclined his head in a mockery of a bow. “How fitting, that you should be the one to deliver it to me. I came to Halcyon because you called me, and because you and your husband had built a city so poisonous that it incited Gix to rebellion.” He patted her head, then rose to his feet in one graceful motion, standing over her supine form. “And now, in the end, I have bested all three of you.”
He smiles down at me, considering, but I already know what he sees. It’s over, Rebbec. Your time is up.
At least, perhaps, she was ready. She had finally had enough. Raising herself on her elbows, she looked him in the eye and managed, “Just get it over with.”
“Pardon?”
“Kill me.” Rebbec had already cried so many times that day that it was little surprise to feel the wetness on her cheeks, but she was not prepared for the way her face suddenly crumpled, her inability to look at Yawgmoth as she spoke. “We both know you’re going to. Just… get on with it. Don’t keep me waiting. I can’t bear to hear you speak any longer.”
An uncomfortable silence descended. Rebbec still could not bring herself to look at him, but she wondered idly if he would drag things out simply to punish her for her words. It would hardly matter. Either way, she would be dead.
And that still hurt , deep in her soul, even after everything. Even knowing the alternative.
“Oh, Rebbec.” Yawgmoth chuckled faintly, somewhere far away. A moment later, she felt him kneel down next to her. Slowly, painfully, she made herself look up at him one last time.
There he was, smug as ever. She had little doubt that he could kill her with a thought, and that he would in just a moment. She was tempted to squeeze her eyes shut in anticipation.
Except that even as she watched, he held out his hand instead.
Blinking, she stared at the offered hand in utter bewilderment. A trap, perhaps? One last way to humiliate me? “Yawgmoth,” she said faintly, head spinning. “What is this?”
Instead of answering, he chuckled again and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to her feet. He stepped back and regarded her with plain amusement.
“Rebbec, I have no intention of killing you. As I said, you and Glacian are fascinating to me. To kill you would be… a monumental waste.”
He moved forward again, and just as she had before the portal, Rebbec found herself stumbling back. “Besides, you’ve admitted your guilt, haven’t you? Those were the terms. I think, Rebbec, that Phyrexia is exactly where you are meant to be.”
Another step forward, and he rested a hand on her shoulder. Not a firm grip- she could break away if she wanted to, she was sure of it- but the proximity was disturbing nonetheless. “I don’t want to be a Phyrexian,” she mumbled faintly, lowering her head. She sounded like a petulant child, but at this point her voice was beyond her control. “I don’t want you to own me.”
Yet she could not deny the surging in her chest, the frantic beating of her heart. Hope.
For the first time in hours, there was a sliver of hope. I might yet live.
And that… makes me happy.
He snorted. “Come now, Rebbec. Altering you as I do the others would be a waste.” His other hand cupped the side of her face, then tilted her chin up so she was forced to look at him once again.
“It is just as I said, Rebbec,” he murmured softly. One of his thumbs brushed her cheek, and she had to fight the urge to lean into the touch. She wanted to believe these feelings were only him messing with her head, but she was less sure with each passing moment. This did not feel anything like his previous intrusion. And I cannot imagine him giving me hope, even to take it away again a moment later. “All I ask is that you admit that you helped me. Not just that you ‘aren’t innocent,’ but that you helped me specifically. That you were my architect of Phyrexia. We are alike, you and I. There should be no shame in admitting that now. There is no one left to hold it against you.”
No one left… That should have snapped her out of it, or at least set the alarm bells ringing in her head. Instead, the words felt almost reassuring.
And why wouldn’t they? He has promised me my life. He has promised that I will not be altered. It is true: no one is left to judge my decision. What is left for me to lose? For anyone to lose?
Yawgmoth’s hand was still resting on her shoulder. His thumb still brushing her cheek.
My freedom. That was the one thing he hadn’t promised her. I don’t want him to own me.
But even that would not have given her pause on its own.
If I take his offer, I will be turning my back on Glacian. I will be turning my back on my people. I will be spurning their loss, giving myself over to a monster. Even if it changes nothing, can I really live with that?
With the slightest movement of her head, Rebbec managed to fix her gaze on the portal once more. On the other side lay nothing but swirling white.
It was only a few steps away. If she ran for it now, Rebbec knew she could be through it before Yawgmoth had the chance to stop her.
A better person might have done it.
But that is not who I am.
Instead, Rebbec turned back to Yawgmoth. He had a knowing little smile on his lips, like he knew exactly what she had been thinking and found it amusing.
He was right about Glacian and me all along. As long as I could pretend what I was doing was for the greater good, I had no problem trampling over the people who got in my way. And now that I’ve seen that… is there really any point in resisting? Am I really going to throw my life away over something I can’t make right?
Rebbec took a slow breath and tried to calm her racing heart. For the first time all day, her life was in her own hands. She knew what she had to do.
“Yawgmoth,” she said quietly. He drew a step back and met her eyes. Still smiling. He could read her mind, here on Phyrexia; perhaps he already knew her answer.
For all the difference that will make.
She looked down, biting her lip. “I… you were right. We are very much alike.” Tentatively, she reached out and took one of his hands in hers. “And I did help you build this. Unintentionally, maybe, but I helped you nonetheless. And now…”
She looked up at last, hardly daring to breathe. Yawgmoth’s eyes gleamed triumphantly in the gentle light.
A tough pill to swallow, but likely the last one. And it will get easier with time. It always does.
“I would very much like to stay here with you. To live.”
At the end of the day, I can live with anything, as long as I am alive.
“Then it is decided, Rebbec!” he cried grandly, sweeping an arm around her shoulders. He began to steer them away from the portal, the ruined cave beyond. “I always knew you would see reason, in the end. You have your foibles, yes, but overall you are very logical, one of the more intelligent Thran. But we can improve even that, if you will only listen…”
As they walked away, Rebbec allowed herself one last glance back at the portal. It was shrinking rapidly behind them, soft light fading into the distance.
She felt dirty, somehow, as she listened to Yawgmoth’s smooth voice, as she glimpsed the blood red powerstone still clutching tightly in his hand. Could Glacian hear them? Did he blame her for her decision? For a moment, something seemed to squeeze at her chest, and she found she almost couldn’t breath.
But as Yawgmoth led her away, down a gently sloping hillside, the portal soon disappeared from view. Rebbec found that each breath came a little easier, a little easier, until the pain was nothing but a faint echo in her mind.
As they descended the hill, arm in arm, Rebbec felt that each step carried her further away from her doubts and regrets. Those lay in the cavern, buried before the pedestal, where she had not placed the stone.
And how lucky I am for that. If I had placed it, my life would be lost to me now.
Ahead of them, the hills sloped gently towards the sky. There were flowers there, and trees, an endless expanse of beautiful, untouched nature. The buildings were a blight, certainly, but she could build new ones. Beautiful buildings to rival the beautiful landscape. Something to aim for, perhaps, in all the years to come.
Rebbec took a breath and laughed, delighted at the thought. So many years lay before her now, and she had been planning her imminent death mere hours before.
Why would she want to lose her life, when she could remain forever in Phyrexia’s warm, forgiving embrace?