"I am become Death, the destroyer of Worlds."
-The Bhagavad Gita.

Outside the dome, there is screaming. A wave of it. A multitude of pain. And she knows he feels every ounce of it. His slender body vibrates with knowing...his proud head is bent with grief as his fingers clench against the shimmering wall. He can do nothing to stop it. He will die trying.

They both know it.

She wraps her arms around him from behind...whispers endearments in ...wills him to be strong. Her mate. Her husband. Her leader. And the hope of millions.

How can I save them, Beloved? His anguish echoes through her mind...as tender as his caresses at night.

She tells him what the Elders have told them all ready. You cannot...not in this body...not in this life.

Then what good am I? His dark eyes are reflected in the wall...liquid and wise...and so sad. If I must be reborn...why was I born to begin with?

For hope, my love. Hope and destiny. She knows the words are empty. Knows that the screams override her gentle assurances. But they are all she can offer.

Somewhere in the distance, the warriors are coming...they are cutting into the smooth gray skin of children and those grown, seeing no difference and offering no mercy. And into the tide of battle, goes her husband's sister and his dearest friend. She knows his thoughts lie with them. The brave. The proud. They, too, will die.

He turns in her embrace, and their minds merge. She is caught up in his love and his turmoil. And his questions. What if the Elders fail? What if the Blue Planet spits our essence back into the sky? What if the new bodies reach there and we die? Or we forget? What if I forget _you_?

She laughs. She laughs and shakes her head, holding him close to her heart. How could we ever forget one another? You and I are one. Just as she and he are. We are four...and we are two, are we not? That is why the Elders put Fate in our hands.

He is somber. Unconvinced. Scared for their people. For their union. What if the Elders are wrong?

Shh. She soothes him. She soothes him and draws him into their chamber. Its all right, my darling. We will prevail. We will overcome.

His agony is bright...as bright as their swift, fierce, mating.

Beloved...as long as I have you, I can believe that.

She holds him.

And the dome shakes with the first of many explosions.

* * *

She stares up at the sky, tilting her head back and glaring into the orange sun. She stands apart, shaking a fist that is pale, of pinks and whites, instead of gray. She knows him. She can sense him. His body is nearby...but his heart is far. Looking towards someone else. Someone who doesn't carry the ache of their past. Someone he remembers instead of her.

This blue world is perfect. They are alive. They are safe. They are four. But not two. Not one and one.

Mist chokes her throat. Or is it tears?

Tess Harding, as she is called now, sinks to the ground and beats at it. She beats at it as the ones called Michael and Isabel look on with human disgust and confusion. And the one called Max doesn't look at all.

"The Elders were wrong."