8000ContestItsDenali - Fragment 5

Link to article: 8000ContestItsDenali - Fragment 5.

Module Styles

• /* New banner */
  .widebox {
      background-image: url(https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-8018/Banner_Abdicate.png);

Inline Styles

• (none)

Includes

• (none)

CSS Classes

• widebox

• gregory

• gregory

• gregory

Page Source

[[module CSS]]
/* New banner */
.widebox {
    background-image: url(https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-8018/Banner_Abdicate.png);
[[/module]]
[[div class="widebox"]]
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+++++ [[span class="gregory"]]//Don't you remember?//[[/span]]
[[/=]]
[[/div]]
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[[span class="gregory"]]"If you have faith in humanity's potential to inherit all of this, then so do I," Altasha said. Her posture straightened. She felt positively galvanized.

Gregory beamed with pride and relief. "So shall it be," he announced jovially. "Let us proceed."

Somewhere in the far reaches of the cathedral, the low tone of an organ introduced itself, accompanied by the soft and drifting echoes of a choir. He held his arms wide as if in address to a great congregation before him. Altasha turned. The pews before the chancel sat full, each occupied by the forms of previous heritors. Children of the Day, Twilight, and Night looked on eagerly, all awaiting the advent of mankind's ascension.

"Altasha Ilgovich, heritor to the Throne of the Glittering City, is it your wish to abdicate your station?" he asked, his voice booming throughout the building.

"It is," she declared. "I hereby abdicate the Throne," she said. "Relinquish the Dream to humanity in my stead."

The choir waxed, the organ swelled, and the light glowed brighter than ever before. A deep and joyous laugh rose in Gregory's chest. The crown upon Gregory's head shimmered, and rose, climbing into the air above Altasha. The facets shifted and the crown began to reshape itself. Its form compressed, the threefold prominences flattening and smoothing out until the crown bore the appearance of a great, crystalline ring.  

"Heritor!" Gregory proclaimed. "Thy will be done!"

With that, the ring above Altasha burst. A expanding pulse of light emanated outward from the remnants of the ring, passing through Altasha and the walls of the church. Fragments and shards of crystal followed, each pulling behind it an incandescent trail of flickering light. Somewhere far off, beyond the confines of the cathedral or even the island, Altasha felt an almost imperceptible shift. And all was still.

Altasha's eyes refocused. Around the cathedral she noticed a sort of gloom creeping in. The gilded brilliance faded, the choir and organ ceased, and the rows of predecessors had vanished. She looked back toward the throne. Gregory stood before it with a look of serenity writ on his face.  

"It is finished," he said. The man suddenly seemed frailer.  The great power sustaining him had left. He looked at his hand, which shook slightly with the telltale weight of great age. "Won't be long now."

Altasha examined his trembling hand. "We have to get you back to the Foundation," she urged. "We have the means, we can still—"

"Allie," he said quietly. "It's over. This is all that's left of me. My mind echoing around this vast and empty machine." The room seemed to darken further at the statement.

Altasha felt a pang of resignation, letting Gregory's hand fall. "A steep price to pay, even for a solution like this," she murmured.

Gregory smiled sympathetically. "It will be alright. Now, I know you hate goodbyes, but indulge me this one last time, would you, my dear?"

He held out his hand. Altasha took it.

The world shimmered around them. Altasha could feel Gregory's lifeforce burning away as he brought forth the form of a small living room. The warm glow cast by the fireplace to Altasha's right faintly illuminated the shadowed recesses of the room, staining the darkness with a cool, golden light. Myriad delicate ornaments adorned the Christmas tree that stood behind Gregory, each one accented by the varying colored lights that twined between the branches. Behind her, a snowy wind breathed against the darkened windows of the room. Altasha instantly recognized the scene.

"Christmas Eve, 1931," Gregory said in a hushed tone.

Altasha took in the room, basking in the memory. "Our last night together," she murmured.

Gregory waved a finger and the phonograph in the corner of the room awoke. A soft melody quietly crackled to life. //I Could Waltz On Forever (With You Sweetheart), 1927//. Gregory held out a hand to Altasha, bowing slightly.

"May I have this dance?" he asked with a tired smile.

Altasha nodded, taking his hand. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As the two swayed in the soft glow of the fire, the world seemed to move with them. Theirs was a dance that transcended time and space. The sigh of the wind outside was the breath of centuries; the dancing shadows of the fire like the spirits of old.

The record spun as its music drifted through the room, carrying the melodies from another time, another life. Altasha closed her eyes and let it all wash over her. She felt as though she were a young woman again, a fledgling researcher brimming with hopes, and fears, and dreams. She and Gregory spun, and so did the wheel of the sky beyond, turned by the hands of the man at her side.

Time compressed, and the wind, the fire, and the phonograph played on as the two of them danced, lost in time and space in a kaleidoscope of memory; brilliant beyond brilliance, eternal beyond eternity.

As lifetimes wore on, Gregory's pace finally began to slow. He slumped against Altasha, the weight of his long journey settling upon him at long last. The room around them seemed to ripple and shift. The phonograph sputtered briefly.

"Altasha," Gregory murmured, his words a frail whisper. "It's time."

The room began to fray, its form taking on an ethereal transparency. The fire darkened, the wind hushed, and the phonograph faded to a distant hum. Altasha closed her eyes and lowered her head. Her lip trembled as she continued to shuffle her feet to the fading music. She leaned over and kissed Gregory gently, then spoke, her voice breaking.

"I'm still here."

Gregory smiled, his body at last beginning to fade with the world around them. "Thank you Altasha," he murmured, his voice seemingly distant and echoing. "For everything."

Altasha felt the world fall away around her as the scene evaporated. She was falling through a blinding, white void. Gregory's voice surrounded her, gentle, serene, and at peace.

"When next you lie down to sleep, dream of me, would you, my dear?"[[/span]]

[[span class="gregory"]]As she began to call out, Gregory's presence vanished, the void collapsed, and **[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8018/offset/6 Altasha's dreaming eyes  opened.]**[[/span]]
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