“Like the echoing sounds of the choirs of angels, singing in eternity, so does love. It transcends.”

“I was created to produce a world from thoughts… thoughts of a person whom they call the possessor. The data from the possessor’s mind are enhanced and consumed in a dimension called Veil—an imitation of reality, only in its peaceful state. Unless dead, there can be only one possessor—and as long as her heart is beating I will live. As long as she feels, I exist. I am a part of her, as Syn is a part of me now…”

“It’s impossible…” Mirage mutters, but her eyes widened at a single thought that quite disturbed her nature. “Impossible unless…”
“I think you got it already,” Syn smiled confidently at her as if it was a thing of no matter. “However there is no way I could be able to speak to them.”
“All they have given you is pain. Yet why do you wish to see them?” Mirage asks, walking softly and peacefully as she hovered around, like the stars drifting above the night sky.
“They gave me meaning.” Syn answers truthfully. “I think that’s the real cause of my existence,” she adds, looking at the dark atmosphere—endless, as it seems.
Mirage too, turned up and smiled.
“Like the sky are your feelings…” She speaks in a warm tone to which Syn is surprised to hear. “They are felt in every part of the world, even in distance away. Like the echoing sounds of the choirs of angels, singing in eternity, so does love. It transcends.” She spoke such earnestly and held Syn’s hand and put in against her white cheeks. “You can touch them even if you are dimensions apart.”

Ashes from his cigar fell on the floor, as he sat quietly in his office, smoking as usual. Just a while ago, the officials of Neo-Gaia held a conference—dealing with the current condition Mirage is having. Reagent’s statement was almost absurd, yet the idea struck them. Technical problem—that was Steven’s stand. Some believed his explanation, others do not, that it brought disbelief in his status and his rank is now in threat.
“How in the world does Syn’s data remains there after her death?” He asks himself, for he too was bothered. Yet he tried to cover his anxiety with the belief that it was just a technical problem. However, the more he recalls Reagent’s words, the more he begins to doubt.
There was a shadow in his heart, much yet; there was a shadow at his door. As Steven turns his chair he sees his old friend leaning at the wall, silent but fierce. He could feel the bitter atmosphere scattered in his room and for a minute he was tensed. But then again, he smiled to himself as he crushed the cigar to the ashtray on his table.
“So you’ve come for me,” he smiles, to which Reagent replies with a nod.
“You’re not going to break your promise, right?” he adds, as he stands from his chair and took his coat.
“Let’s go,” Reagent says icily as he led the way. Steven followed behind, the fear and regret vanished quickly as he assured himself of a quick, painless death—“This is it,” he thinks to himself. “What I’ve been waiting for.”
The two walked slowly through the house of Neo-Gaia, making the march of their own death as one gives judgment to the other. However, Steven stops as they walked passed by Mirage, wanting one last glance to his creation. “Can you give me just five minutes?” he asks Reagent. “I’ll just say goodbye to her.”
He walks inside the sanctuary, his eyes looking up at the tower of computer they have created. “Wow,” he sighs, laughing at the thought—of all the things they have gone through because of a mistake. He touched the machine and petted it as if it can feel; it was his masterpiece after all. He just stood there, silently holding on to all the tears lest his friend see him cry before his death. But he could not—for in a second he broke down; he tried to calm himself as he heard Reagent’s footsteps approaching.
“I was—,” he mutters, wiping the tears as fast as he could. “Just reminiscing.”
Reagent stopped and looked at the Mirage. The tower was so high it almost reached the ceiling of the Neo-Gaia’s palatial house. “Our dreams were like that,” he groans painfully. “But just like the tower of Babel, it all fell into the ground, crushed into pieces.”

It was already nighttime as they trudged into the forest of Harpsha. The moon gleamed shiningly at them and the stars shined like little flares of candles—but each of them has a very different thing in mind. Soon, the sky will become the only witness and the moon’s eyes persist to watch. As the sound of Reagent’s gun quaintly clinking as they walked into the deep forest, it soon dawned upon them that a painful separation is about to come close.
Rain quietly poured down, like tears from heaven when its heart was wrenched with pitiful loneliness from its gaze below. It trickled quietly—for Steven, this scene is familiar. The same scene from the horrible night he has to kill a friend. But for now, justice will be delivered—for he is about to be killed, by a friend as well.
Reagent walked without words, his silence already killing Steven as they walked farther inside the woods. There was still pain in his heart—he has lost one beloved and is about to lose another, but his mind is made up. The anger cannot fade away until the blood of the man who killed Syn is shed in his hands.
“Here we are,” Steven mutters smilingly, trying to silence the screaming stings in his heart by pretending he’s accepted it all. He recognizes the same oak tree, the same rocks where he shot Syn that he says, “This is the place.”
“Let’s get this over with.” Reagent groans icily, aiming his gun at Steven’s back. “You ready?”
“I’m sorry I haven’t given you any proper burial, Syn,” Steven mutters to himself, hoping the earth will cover her for him and carry out his words so she can hear. The rain mixed with his tears, that he felt he was lucky he had his back on Reagent so he would not be seen crying. “Perhaps my blood is enough to pay for my sins.”
Both were drenched in rain, and the clouds covered the moon—which seems to be afraid to watch. The stars hid their light, and the trees refused to dance. The blades of green grass were covered with mud, and the mist obscured them as if what is about to happen is set apart from their heavenly eyes.
“Goodbye, Steven,” Reagent mutters determinedly, whilst his friend closed his eyes in waiting for the gunshot and the bullet to pierce him.

“Stop!”
A voice floated about the darkness of the night that both of them were taken aback. Reagent thought he was hearing echoes in his mind—but then it called again and again that both were sure that somebody is out there other than them…
“Please… hear me,”
The clouds were swept from the moon, and the grasses swayed, disturbed by a mystical resonance from the dense forest. From where Steven was standing arose the earth—mud and filth slowly slid down as it turned upwards. In terror Reagent shoots the moving creature, but then again, as the raindrops washed away the soil he and his friend wide-eye gazed in amazement as they realized who it is…her face placid although there were still traces of blood from her cheeks. The expression of love is still present in her stare, that as she awoke from her long sleep she smiled as both shouted her name…
“SYN?”