It’s a world free of suffering, a world free of pain! And yet, Cyrus can feel the stirring of SOMETHING deep within. Something from eons ago, nostalgic in the worst way, one that he’d fought so hard to escape. In this world, he is god, and he can banish and allow emotion on a whim.
Everything SCREAMS ‘don’t let yourself get burned’. You have something bigger to work for above your self and your desires. Block the access, shut it down. delete, delete, delete, erase the program, reboot, restart, try again—!
She doesn’t belong here, he inwardly hisses at his brain. What happens to glitches in the code? They are removed. This is not her place, no matter how you long it to be so. You are powerful Cyrus, but not that powerful. A spirit rings in her clear and true, in a world where it is snuffed out. A danger to the others. A danger to himself.
(Be still, holder of heavens. Do not remember how delicately her fingers traced your face, or how tightly she held you. Hades cannot linger on the day when Persephone returns to the living, for his kingdom will surely perish. Think not of the way her mouth reminds you of the forbidden fruit of Eden, surely to cause your death after the first taste—!
–Think not of how you will miss the curve of her smile, or the warmth of her hands. Is it true, do the dead crave the living? Are you not living proof, Cyrus?)
“But you do not BELONG here. In this world.” It is something they both know, no matter how they wish it otherwise. “It was not made for you, as you are. You do not thrive as you should. You cannot stay.”
It is with a heavy heart that the sun must turn his face from that he knew, and while her eyes stare up (begging , pleading!) Cyrus finds that he cannot meet them. Why wasn’t he willing this pain away? Was it meant to be a reminder of her? A memento? He is bursting at the seams, and she knows it. So he does what he can, eases himself. Emotional eyes fade slowly back to apathetic steel, a determination that he cannot be persuaded otherwise.
It is with great care that he pries her hands off of his clothing, holding them in his own to prevent any sudden movement. No, he will not kiss her GOODBYE, lest she dwells on it. Above all though, he is fair.
“I know what is best for my creation and my world, but I cannot speak for you, and what kind of god may I be if I do not protect all in my charge? I give you the night to say goodbye, Elizabeth. As the Sun rises, surely, you will depart.”
Do not forget me, I beg you.
