His breathing slows, each inhalation more brief than the last. He slips out of time, out of phase with the world, and watches the light die. Just one more. Just one.

A crack. Split. The stone shifts. Somewhere the third sons of the Fallen Ones cry out in their sleep, feeling the cut. Just a little tear, but it is enough.

The spine shifts, collapsing on itself. There is a darkness now at the edge of the world, a tiny splinter of light has been swallowed.

yes yes there, let me yes yes

The windows break first, the panes cracking and falling out. I cannot see out. I cannot see in. Blindness. Blindness. The tower tilts, its spine suddenly compromised. Just one chip.

(no!)

Have we brought this calamity upon ourselves? Are we responsible for this destruction?

His brother cannot speak. His throat is full of blood. His mouth is full. His tongue is gone. He, too, has lost the ability to speak.

"When we relaunch the dream weapon, all will be forgotten . . ."

The tower, falling . . .

My spine, collapsing . . .

". . . and all will be well."

yes yes here, the blackness comes yes yes

I miss you, Nora.

I know. I miss you too.

falling . . .

"We have forgotten what it is like to participate in genesis."

No, we never knew.

"All we have left is shadows of shadows."

All we have . . .

(watch my hands says the magician)

. . . are questions. Why? Who? Where? No answers, just echoes back of our own blind fear. Why?

bababa . . .

"Did you fall?"

. . . dalgharaghtakamminarronnkonn . . .

Stones all around me. My tongue split and bleeding in my mouth. Bruises on my hands.

. . . bronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarr . . .

My shadow, clawing at me. What echo is this? What nonsense have I created? What geometry have I forced around my head? What have I done, oh clumsy God?

. . . hounarwnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!

Yes, that was me, bouncing down the ladder. I fell, from the roof to the cellar, and through every world in between.