Jennie is standing at the top of a cliff, looking down. Around her, she sees white. Down the cliff, she can see the Earth. Thousands of humans move back and forth on a busy street, some of them bumping into each other, some staring only at their beloved screens, some looking at the verge of tears.
Corrupted, Jennie hears. The rough voice speaks in her ear.
They are a disgrace. The lowest of the creatures. Abominátio.
Jennie watches a mother picking her child up from the floor, kissing tenderly a new wound that throbs in her little knee.
Soulless, the voice speaks, a bit louder.
The image suddenly changes. Now, the brunette is staring at a bunch of precarious houses burning in flames. People run scared, screaming, powerless.
Despicable, the voice shouts.
Jennie flinches.
She watches as a young man enters a burning building desperately.
Why? The brunette wonders. Why?
He comes out of the house, his face covered by ashes, carrying a female body on his arms.
The image changes again.
Now Jennie is staring at a beach.
It's beautiful.
The sun is shining brightly, the sand looking almost golden because of the light.
The sky is light blue, not a single cloud floating above the serene waters.
A girl walks around, printing her path on the terrain, her gaze lost in the ocean.
She stops.
Jennie's heart starts to beat faster.
Still with an unfocused look, the girl gets closer to the sea.
The brunette feels like screaming.
The girl, her hair as golden as the sunlight, lets water surround her feet.
She keeps walking slowly towards vast blue.
No, Jennie thinks. No, no, no.
Fate, the voice returns, echoing on the white void.
Vulgar creatures are destined to perish.
Fatum.
Angels should not intervene.
Adiutor.
Jennie watches as the sun disappears suddenly behind dark clouds.
The blonde girl doesn't seem to mind when the pouring rain starts to hit her face and shoulders.
She's drenching.
Jennie thinks and thinks harder, trying to focus as the voice keeps murmuring in her ear.
The tide rises. Waves start to crash against each other destructively.
Lisa closes her eyes and lets her head dive in deep waters.
Lisa, Jennie wants to scream.
Lisa, love.
No.
The brunette feels her own tears running down her cheeks as the voice screams in her ear.
Debílitas, it says.
Lisa's body does not emerge from the turbulent waters.
Jennie would like to tear her wings off her back and dive in to save her.
