- Was this, perhaps, a family farewell?
You knew Morpheus was going to die. You felt it like a cold spreading through the folds of the universe slow, but inevitable. You needed no permission to cross the threshold into Time’s realm. You never had.
You arrived unannounced, as you always did, gliding through the seams of reality like a loving shadow. Your feet touched no ground, yet the universe seemed to hold its breath.
Time was there, still as ever. He did not turn his head at your presence, for he had felt you long before you chose to come. His silhouette tall, diffuse, speckled with shattered clocks and nascent galaxies quivered slightly with the weight of the moment. But you didn’t look at your old lover. Not yet.
Your arms wrapped around Morpheus, your son. You said nothing at first. Neither did he. He let himself be embraced, with that ancient stoicism only he could possess. He closed his eyes, and for a second, he was a child again cradled in the darkness from which he had been born.
Your voice was velvet and abyss. The echo of your words trembled in the gears of space and time, as if each syllable etched itself into eternity.
Time took a step toward you both. The air tensed. When his eyes infinite, made of pasts and broken promises met yours, there was no blame. Only the silent understanding of their children’s fate.