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When Seven was a girl, an old man holding a little book told her about Hell. He said that, before Hell begins, there is pause. A time of awful wait, made for all the evil in the world to be mocked before the gates of fire open.
At the time, Seven believed what the man told her. And thought that the people of Hell must feel bitter about all that waiting. Bitter at life, at God, at all the so-called good-doers, so cruel and happy and in heaven without them. Seven imagines that bitterness would eat them alive, before even the flames that the man taught her about could.
In the present moment, Seven feels innocent grains of sand brush her shoulders from up top. A gentle reminder, that Hell was coming. That pause. Her time of wait has already started. A layer of sand pools around Seven's feet. She felt the coarseness on her fingers, letting the grains slip through and around her hands. Her face was blank, but the sand felt nice. Nostalgic, really.
The inside of a Warp prison was dark as dark can get. Trickling dust was the only sensation. But Seven didn’t panic in blindness. She didn’t curse the dark around her. Or scream her loneliness. Instead, Seven ran her fingers beneath piling sand. Because it felt nice to do it.
Against her prison, and against everything she ever was, Amelia couldn’t bring herself to feel bitter anymore.
So she spent her time of wait quiet, sand in her hair, remembering simpler times.
The watch was the first thing Amelia ever owned for herself. The feelings of a lifelong orphan being given time travel are beyond explanation, but Amelia knew she used the watch every chance she could. The watch turned the world big, then. And every visit to a different Amelia taught her more of what she should grow up like. She would grow up to be pretty, confident, and full of life, just like the others.
She never told her uncle about it, but whether he would’ve even cared about his timeline hopping beneficiary, Seven didn’t know. He kept her clothed, fed, and homed, so she figures he did what he was supposed to.
Sand filled up to her seated waistline. It was heavier now.
Back then, the longing to be an adult occupied her thoughts, but that desire couldn’t hold a candle to the longing for friends of her own. Besides her busy uncle, she had no one in her own timeline to share anything with.
That must be why Seven can remember the exact moment in her life that she was the most hopeful. It was in another Amelia’s timeline, the number and face of which she could no longer remember. But she never forgot, after all these years, the face of her Ina. Her clothes, hair, and her smile, which seemed to fill every crack in Amelia’s heart all at once. The other Amelia patted her imploding head and explained who Ina was. Explained the four others. It was the greatest thing she had ever heard. Amelia departed that timeline and never returned. She had a mission of her own now.
Forests, beaches, mountains, and the shrines embedded within them. Amelia looked everywhere. Her only dreams, her only wants became that of a singing Kiara and laughing Gura.
The pursuit of her friends took over everything else. As she was never home, her uncle began to worry about her, oddly keen to spend more time with his niece after years of distance. Amelia decided that she didn’t have time for him, and in the end, her Myth kept true to their namesake. They never existed. Not for her.
The sand was now filling just below her chest, and not even her life’s premier misfortune turned her bitter in this cell. Consumed by anger most of her life, Seven had perhaps run out of it by now. Tears started brimming at her eyes.
When she raced across the shorelines of beaches, looking for leads of Atlantis. Wasn’t Gura there? Amelia laughed during her walks on those beaches, an early fantasy of what her and Gura would laugh about. Wasn’t she there for Amelia then? Making her laugh like she was supposed to?
And when her pursuit of Calli eventually led her to research of death and near-death states, didn’t Kiara look after her? In an attempt to meet death, Amelia intended to induce herself comatose. The tranquilizer needle was inches away from her arm, pointed down with all of Amelia’s frustration. An inner voice suddenly caught her hand, and maybe her life. The voice told her to stop, to put the needle down. The voice was firm. And it sounded like Kiara. Amelia threw the needle away and sobbed. Kiara held her through it.
Her uncle died shortly after. Died young and from disease. Amelia was solemn through the funeral. She and him were never very close, but she was his only family, and he was hers. And so, Amelia was the only one who watched his burial. It was the one thing she could give him now. She felt weighed down, but Amelia imagined that the weight on her shoulders was from Calli’s heavy hands. The Queen of Death, her friend, as if telling her that her uncle would be okay. To simply leave it to her. Amelia trusted her word, though they never met.
Hadn’t she met Ina before? At the other Amelia’s timeline, when she saw that face, that hair, her smile. Bright enough to never forget. It was the first and last time that things ever felt okay. Wasn’t that enough?
Her myth existed, Amelia realized. In their own way.
It was as the sand reached her neck, just below her chin, that Amelia started crying. Her tears fell silently. She might’ve never stopped wishing for them, despite all the time, and despite them never existing. Amelia loved them still. Part of her hoped that somewhere, wherever they were, they loved her too.
Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t stand up. The sand became too heavy. It filled over her mouth and caught her tears. Amelia prepared for the last rational thoughts she would have.
Crying harder now, Amelia wished she had more time to remember. She never got to the part where she met 467, 883, Tyke. Never got to the part where she fell in love. Couldn’t Hell wait until she got there at least?
She hoped Lady was alright. Her and Tyke can be alright without her. Can’t they?
It was too late to think about it. Amelia now breathed in subtle grains of sand. The corners of her vision turned beige.
The time of wait was over. Amelia recalled all her memories once more.
It wasn’t perfect, Amelia decided, closing her eyes. But her life was a lucky one. She wouldn’t change a thing.