Her chartreuse optics reflected the quiet light of the forest, emitting a dull coruscation of radioactive waste. Surrounding her was the withered wasteland that was Primal Instinct, deluged with vegetation and yet dehydrated for life. The dense forest constricted light to shadow, fostering a home for the demons that thrived here, and left the air drenched with a permanent chill of desolation. Who better than Vera E'tani to reign as queen of this empire of ash and bone?

Grains of dust slipped through the metaphorical hourglass as the seconds ticked by. The Nemesis had ordered them each to meet her in this clearing at noon, yet she reposed in isolation for the time being. She took the time to reflect upon recent events, her mind replaying the horrific scenes without so much as a faint tug at her heart. Apathy had set in, the enemy of vibrancy, of emotion -- of life. She recalled the fire with indifference at best, picturing her son crushed by that tree, losing one of her own lives to save him, and reviving to find that her unborn kits had not been immortal. Being called to meet with Understar, only to find him standing over the corpse of her sister, Shaman Raelynn. Connecting the dots to Reyanna. Slaughtering the murderer, her own brother, Ruslan, to avenge them. Dying a second time from the wounds she sustained from that battle. So many deaths in so little time, and not even Vera herself had escaped the carnage.

Except she had risen, twice, back to the monochrome world of despair she had so eloquently crafted. She hadn't been as lucky as the ones who never woke up.