Stitching the Epoch

Autumn stood, blind. "What the hell are you all arguing about? What is wrong with you people? Our time is running out. We need to stop bickering and trying to kill each other. Don't you think there is enough out there already trying to kill us?" Her legs gave way and she stumbled, Moonal catching her in the midst of her tumble. 

"Don't you people see?" Moonal rose, "you have no time left, and all you've done is flexed your muscles and spat insults at each other. What have you achieved from your time here? You haven't learnt anything. You need a target, you need objectives, otherwise you aren't going to last out there and if I was Autumn, I wouldn't save you again."

Moonal frowned, looking down at Autumn, still exhausted by the exertion of transporting them to this place. His mouth curved down, his displeasure was apparent.

Issac's fire had died down, Zanaria had calmed himself, and even looked a little sheepish at Moonal's discipline.

"More than anything, Autumn is a beautifully kind person, and you shouldn't take advantage of what she has given you. This is your chance to start afresh with each other. Now I propose that you devise a plan that will be beneficial to all of you. Perhaps you might even consider dividing the group up so that you are working with people that you can actually respect."

The sky brewed heavily, thunderstorms cracking across the white world, lilac seeping in like smog, and darkness kissing the edges of every surface... Moonal was right, they had little time left, they had to make some decisions ... and quickly.

The End

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