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The joys of warmth, of having a hand to hold once again. Lovataar had cried many times throughout her long life, both in her mother's arms and in those of whom she loved the most. How concerned she had been when those stones fell, the light of metal only cutting through the rubble. The raw cold and nervous pain as her stomach was pealed away from the inside out.
There was no vociferation of rage as she watched the heat of the scornful earth consume him.
Orok had stood again, pulling with him the ground and the flame. Saarn was lying on the ground next to an open wormhole…
"Sister?" Lovataar smiled, bringing the girl up once more.
"You are blind…"
"They have the mind to continue!" The voice was filled with joy. It sprang from the mother's mouth. Her sister merely shook her head and crawled along her back.
"Saarn! The priest is weakened.!Don't you see him stumble?"
"Stumble? Manic highblood," she spat, "he is soaring there!"
"Look upon Them!" It was true, Ion had pried themselves from the starved earth. Saarn covered her eyes.
"I cannot. This is not…"
Stubborn sisters. The girl landed into her chest as the world quieted. The gears, the screeching joints. The heartbeats and screams.
"Where is Nadox?" Saarn asked. Lovataar only heard a muffled sob.
They were here now. Was the priest dead? How joyful! Saarn fell out of the way to the right.
Uncountable hands gripped Theirs. She smiled as the loneliness faded. Arms wrapped around her torse, wings to shield the pair from the world. It felt as though the heat of their body overwhelmed her own. Flesh dripped from her body, it was melting, as it should. The priest was gone, Ion gone from that horrid place. She could not make out his face through the tears. Saarn must of been closer, for hers was still clear. Hesitant. Would she not join their embrace?
Orok would rest for a time, not by the seraphic melting flesh. His corpse was cut along the gut, heartbeat was slow and constant on her left. There should of been more hands.
"I would never fail, dearest," They assure her, clutching her passive mind. So many little hearts were buzzing throughout her warm cheeks. Her breast, her arms. It kept His heart silent. It kept hers slow.
"Why aren't you here?"
"It speaks…" said the dead.
Her hand was hard to move in the warm chasm. Puss dripped from every pore that built up the room after the sky had shrunk.
"I would never let you be without me. Surely not now. Not ever." Her voice dripped like the puss. A static mess burst his metal as he clutched what the priest must of stuck on, "Why do you touch that, my love?"
She turned to her left, where had Orok gone? Saarn was gone, possibly into the shadows of her right.
"I am here, love."
"It's uhh… it's speakin'!" The lover did not sound like Them. Did that worthless priest tear their voice away as well? No weight was planted with her foot as it sunk into the porous floors, mucus collecting around it, filling the creator. The hand around her throat would not let her sink further.
They were covered in metal and woven fabrics. It stuck to them. The metallic gore of the priest covered every inch, of course she could not see their face clearly! They were hurt, frightened. Her love was distressed and she questioned them! Placing a comforting hand upon their mouth, she hushed their words of worry.
When all was done, her lover would remain no longer under the steel. They would still be in her arms. The fabric will be torn to reveal their face, and she will kiss them. Her heart pounded along their own as the squirming ceased, flesh joining with the metal. It would come off, soon. The priest was dead, wasn't he? It could cling no longer.
Each scrap of the unfamiliar fabrics came up easy, along with their flesh, too easy… Had this been Ion? It must be! She gasp, hand prying away the metal of their horrfied face. There was nothing but gore! No tearful eyes or cracking lips… just a mess. The children of the rotten womb sunk their teeth into her love, just as her hands brought the rest of up
How foolish! She was not holding Ion. Yes, her love was under the ground, dead yet alive. She must find them, of course. There was no vociferation of rage as she watched the heat of the scornful earth consume them .Saarn was lying on the ground next to an open wormhole… Something had destroyed the city to her left, but the sight of the weakened priest brought hope to her soul as she hurried to join the limping woman. A great sight, her sister, despite the all the blabbering about "brothers…"