⠀ ⠀ 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺—— ⠀

⠀ "Does the 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 live? ——Or, rather, has she lived, 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 ╱ 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒? ⠀

⠀ "I have come to a conclusion, 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐃 ╱ 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐄." ⠀

⠀ 𝐇͟𝐄͟𝐀͟𝐃͟𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐓͟𝐀͟𝐈͟𝐋͟𝐒 ? ⠀ ⠀

⠀ "I find 𝐓͟𝐀͟𝐈͟𝐋͟𝐒 to be en𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘶𝘳ing." ⠀

⠀ "That 𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 cannot exist, unless it had already existed." ⠀

"𝘏𝘮," A low, solemn hum escaped he, not in deep ponder, but in obvious dissent from the brunette's beliefs that the missing child is lost somewhere out ' there '. "Endless absence—without so much as a whisper. Why exhaust yourself in finding what doesn't want to be found?"

⠀ "Is it? Do dead men tell no 𝐓͟𝐀͟𝐈͟𝐋͟𝐒?" ⠀

⠀ "A heaven made real from a man's wildest dreams, can one truly call it a haven if it's already in disarray?" ⠀

Afore the query could even be uttered to its completion, Lutece figure is now nowhere to be seen. The message has been delivered. What Elizabeth does with it, only she could know.

⠀ "Hm. Perhaps, your judgments are 𝑟͟𝑖͟𝑔͟𝘩͟𝑡 about the girl, 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐃 ╱ 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐄. Desperation does not become her, and yet, it does." ⠀

𝐒tature ever-composed beside sister dearest; hand placed in front of own abdomen, while the other hid behind. His face screamed indifference, caring littlest about newly received defeat. "It is not the matter of what, but rather, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 would that hopelessness escort her?"

⠀ ❛❛ 𝐖hy prefer ' 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 ' when the delicious question is ' 𝘩𝘰𝘸 '.ᐣ 𝘏𝘰𝘸 is reality.ᐣ Or , rather —— ; ; Is reality 𝙣͟𝙤͟𝙬 , ̵𝐋̵𝐀̵𝐌̵𝐁̵ ╱ 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒.ᐣ ❜❜ ⠀

⠀ ❛❛ 𝐌ight I suggest to 𝙨͟𝙚͟𝙩͟ 𝙛͟𝙧͟𝙚͟𝙚 what is no longer at arm's length , 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 ╱ 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒.ᐣ ❜❜ ⠀

⠀ ❛❛ 𝐒he rather reminds me of you , 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐃 ╱ 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐄 ——— ; ; 𝙎͟𝙩͟𝙪͟𝙗͟𝙗͟𝙤͟𝙧͟𝙣 'til the end. ❜❜ ⠀