Time itself slowed to a crawl for Warren Carver, the vibrant colors surrounding everything becoming much more apparent. The bounds of the cockpit began to disappear, now finding himself floating alone amongst this him, the bright green, purple, and generally uplifting colors seemed to go on as far as the eye could see. More directly in front of him was a translucent wall, looking exactly as water, moving exactly as water. At what seemed to be a ceiling and roof, the bright multi-colored pattern fused into the water-wall, blending with what was... the other side.

The other side was an inverted world, deep purples and blues and blacks and odd hues of yellow and green infecting the world. The so-called water was the spawn of a mix between them, in simple terms. His eyes would scan the other-side from end to end, until he realized quite suddenly-There was a person.A small girl, no more than 12, hair as white as snow and skin to match. She was standing, looking at the man, gazing deep into his side of the world. Slowly, her mouth opened, the rest of her body unmoving.

"...Hi"

His eyes traced the rainbow pattern along the ceiling, working down across the vertical sea to what should've been the floor..he was lost. That was the only explanation- he had awakened in a world not meant for him, sucked in through the moonlight. His vision, dulled by the excess of the battle, took time to readjust to the unsettling view of a world flipped upside down...a world seemingly designed for a child.

Lumina.

And there she was.

Lumina.

Her movements precise, no detail of his side of the vertical sea escaped the girl. She stared with the wide-eyed wonder of a girl no older than his sister'd been when they left Conviction. His thoughts drifted to Cheryl for a moment, not even noticing as his hand waved to the girl almost on its own, but returned with a newfound urgency as he finally realized something- the Turn A was gone. Had it not survived the trip into this new world? Was it perhaps not meant to? Warren's gaze fell back upon the child across the sea, and despite all his questions, he could only muster the courage to ask one he already believed to know the answer to.

"Who are you?"

She frowned at this, sad that he was asking such a question. She felt it was obvious and needed no explanation - unless, perhaps...

"I'm Jill" escaped from her mouth, followed by a giggle. Quickly, however, this expression faded, her mind traveling to other places.

"Have you seen Jack..?" Jill said quietly, in a very distant and sorrowful tone. Her head was titled down, now, looking at the 'ground,' hair eclipsing some of her facial features in this position.

The warmth of the exposure suit lulled him into a sleep-like trance, standing there before the girl without an answer on his lips. Squinting, struggling to focus for even a moment, he noticed things that hadn't been there, that still weren't. A damp spot on his upper lip..still-warm blood traced an ink-blot pattern down the left side of his face. His tear ducts felt swollen, thick..like pus had oozed into them from some deep-rooted infection. His eyes stung, his knees were buckled and holy Christ, it was hot. He could feel the moisture seeping out of him, pooling in the folds of his flight suit like little reservoirs along his ribcage. He took in a breath, and tried to speak.

"I don't know."

He let it out, his exhale producing a deep, humid stench in his helmet. Stale air, like the kind you smell coming out of a body that's already been buried for a week. Like a damned corpse. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he'd never made it out to the asteroid belt. That idiot Chapman must've shot him down all those months ago. Or maybe the Martian, Boris, had punched a hole in him that day on Conviction. Maybe this was all just a dream- some kind of extended limbo he was in until his body gave in to that tugging at the end of the rainbow.

"What is this place?"

No. No, he was alive. The light at the end of the tunnel had just kept going, for him, on and on and on like a broken record. He was old, but not old enough. Not young enough, either. Just right, he thought, not too hot and not too cold.

But gods, it was hot. Hotter than the fires of Hell, if there was one. He would surely suffocate; no man could take this kind of heat for very long, imagined or not. If he could just take the damned helmet off..

"Where...where are we, Jill?"

"Where?" Jill's expression changed entirely again, her eyes looking upward as her right hand scratched the top of her head.

"Well, we're..." Starting again, she still had a bit of a puzzled look on her face, hesitating to finish the sentence.

"This is the universe" Finally finishing, she ended the sentence by closing her eyes and smiling, head tilted slightly. Shortly thereafter, they opened back up, right hand coming down from her reached out in a fist, the back of her hand pointing downward - that same she'd scratched her head with. Casually, as if this wasn't strange at all, she opened up her hand to reveal a pair of large, bright orbs. When her hand had completely opened, the orbs were more distinguishable - a rather big butterfly, wings over six inches long each, the color of... the Lumina's cape.

"Aren't they beautiful? You have one, you know. Go ahead, open your hand"

Butterfly..The word lingered in his mind, dragging behind it a thousand years of pain, confusion, and frantic excitement compressed into the last few seconds before he'd charged the Lumina. His hands, both clenchd into fists now, fell to his sides, bolted to his thighs until she spoke. The universe...the universe? No, not the only one. Hers, perhaps, but not his. The colors, the shapes..all wrong. Staring through the vertical sea, he saw nothing from his familiar realm. Only chaos. Only confusion. Disorder, perceived through a child's mind as the one and only solution, the singular truth to all things. And then..

Butterfly.

Warren's eyes zeroed in on the orbs with the frightened gaze of a field mouse staring down a night owl. Those colors..the swirling violet-black halos were wings. He felt a chill run down his spine, replacing the unsettling heat with an icy shill creeping through his veins. Though the colors were Lumina's, the wings..they were something else. Something familiar, closer to him. He suddenly found himself again wondering what had happened to the shuttle, as if the vision of madness in Jill's hand were somehow connected..and then she spoke again.

"My..hand..?" he asked in disbelief, his heart jumping, pounding so hard he thought it would jump out of his chest. He raised his own hand, his tightened fist deathly white and cold as a morning frost he couldn't help but be reminded of. His first visit to Earth some twenty years ago crept into his thoughts, mingled with Jacob Johnson and Qatar, danced with Diana around a collapsing colony, and vanished. He stood there, opposite the girl, staring at his right hand as the curled fingers opened..

Light seeped out from his fingers, bright white and yellow and green, before his hand would open the whole , on his palm, sat a similar butterfly. Its wings were smaller, but vibrant in their color, and shaped precisely in the image the common person had of a butterfly. It was surrealistic, this creature positioned so serenely in his hand, the ethereal glow emanating from every minute movement of a warning, the insect lifted from his hand, taking flight towards the barrier. The girl's reacted similarly, approaching the same spot on the water. In a perfect mirror image, aside from the size differences, the two butterflies landed across from each, wings folded halfway back. The so-called water appeared more to be behind a glass barrier, like an aquarium.

Jill spoke playfully again, not deterred by this spectacular event.

"Will you play with me?"He wanted to be angry. He wanted to feel confused at what was happening, furious that his chance at facing the Lumina had been stolen. First by Wilkins, then by whatever had brought him here. He wanted to, but Jesus, was it beautiful. Tears formed in his eyes, washing the sweat and blood away, and he felt a great relief. It was so perfect. He watched them dance on the glass wall, the tingle in his hand the only proof that whatever it was had come from him and not from some distant Olympus.

Zig zig zig, death in a cadence,

"I..."

Striking with his heel a tomb,

The burden on his heart turned to dust, leaving him light as a feather, his rage and resentment purified by a child's voice. He was a boy- not the boy that had watched his mother waste away, not the one that had known the humiliation of begging for money at a Nolim transport hub, but a boy, plain and simple. He wanted to welcome the chance to forget all that had happened, all that had been lost..

Death at midnight plays a dance-tune,

..but the voices wouldn't let him. He remembered every one of them, lost to time...lost to Lumina. He remembered the painful sting of Petrie and Danglars being reduced to ash by the monster. He heard Kane Wilkins screaming to the stars for vengeance. The heat of the Calgary burning washed over his face. That hot rush of humid air..it was guilt. It was a hatred that would not let go. A hatred he didn't want to let go of. It was his, and it was all he had left without the ship. He wasn't about to give it up without a fight- without the truth. He couldn't; he just..

Zig, zig, zig, on his violin.

"I can't. I can't."

The winter wind blows and the night is dark;

He had no time to be confused. He was afraid, but the screams drove him on. Try as he might to revert to the boy, to the cheerful, peaceful days of a youth he'd never seen and likely never would, he couldn't escape it- the noise. The confused, hurried strings of an out-of-tune violin screeching out the Danse Macabre...he wanted to be angry, and standing there, shaking with a righteous indignation, he was.

Moans are heard in the linden trees.

"They died. All of them. They died."

Through the gloom, white skeletons pass,

The tears dried, and he let out a final, sharp exhale before clenching his fists again. He thought- of an old friend, of a lover's touch, anything to keep him centered. The Lumina had taken everything, and his mind searched for anything he could use to do the same. He wanted the ship. He wanted a gun, a knife, Hell, he wanted the Butler. Anything to make it right. Hesitantly, he shifted his stance, leaning forward a bit. Pulled between impulses, he was actually beginning to wonder just what would happen if..

Running and leaping in their shrouds.

No. Don't do it. Don't touch it.

Zig, zig, zig, each one is frisking,

He stopped himself, cursing through clenched teeth as he sought an alternative. He couldn't do that, he couldn't risk going to other side, if he even could, but he remained steadfast in his resolve to find the answer. He spoke again, calmer now, collected, albeit unsure of what he would gain from this exchange. Perhaps an answer. Perhaps death.

The bones of the dancers are heard to crack—

"Why, Jill? Why does Lumina destroy?"

Watching him, Jill's smile slowly faded, knowing his answer before he said it. She quickly sat down, her arms wrapping around her knees as if she was cold. Breathing deeply, her eyes dull and without focus, she retorted.

"Why does humanity destroy?"

Her head lifting to reveal an oddly solemn expression, much different that her faces and mannerisms before, she spoke with an air of resentment.

"Despite how much humans have, you want nothing but more. You kill and burn for the sake of having a little more for yourself. To kill in your name is right; to be killed in someone else's is wrong. That is why. Humanity is a curse. What did you contribute to Earth? What did you contribute to anything?"

Inhaling again, having not stopped between the sentences, Jill glared hatefully at Warren. She stood up, now, done with the pouting she seemed to be doing before.

"Nothing. Humans are a virus. And you can't stop a virus' spread until you get rid of every last part of it. Only then will the body heal."

Languidly stepping forward, in time she stood against the barrier, hands pressed on the left side of her butterfly.

"You get it, don't you? You're a disease. I'm the cure."

Seeping into the wall, Jill disappeared for a moment, before a ripple on Warren's side began to give way. It started small, as ripples do, before the shape became very clear - a was passing through the her face broke through, everything began to turn darker and darker. The last thing Carver would see was the face of the black Lumina, third glorious, golden eye lighting up in a menacing light.