|Another Side, Another Story|
|IC Date:||11 November 2219|
|RL Date:||11 November 2006|
Soft, wandering, synthesized piano music is funneled in to the room from the speakers, embedded in hidden locations in the walls. The art room looks out over the city with tall windows of glass, so transparent that they seem as if they are nothing at all. Under the sunlight, the Neo Arcadian towers sparkle.
Chandra paints, tossing a pale lock that had tried to stray across her eyes. Things had not been the same for her, really, ever since college. She'd gone to Colorado to escape her parents at home. They'd told her, San Angeles, young lady, is a perfectly fine school, and then in two years they were blown up right along with it, while she studied classic literature high in the safety of the Rocky Mountains.
She wondered at the time why she'd felt nothing about it, and still wondered, until there was no wondering left. Much easier to become a nihilist, and let all hope fade away. She could not find any solace in what religions remained on the world; not even the power of the Stardroids held real appeal. God should be unambiguous in his desires, and should be older than time.
The world was destroyed, after all, and I alone was spared, she thinks, drawing a streak of umber along the canvas. This is different, but it is not unlike to Heaven.
It was nice not to have to worry about feeling. All taken care of. You know how to think and who to worship and what to feel, and something beyond the universe is there, looking out for you, Chandra. This universe, the old universe, the universe behind, sealed and already doomed not to survive the end of time. The skies of arcadia above were sealed to the intruders. They returned the Master, broken, but he would be made whole again soon, so far as she knew, and so far as the news, the very pleasant Arcadian news, was telling her.
She steps back to admire her artwork, proud of her own ability to capture three-dimensionality of the two-dimensional form, and how well she's captured the light bouncing off the glistening metal in her depiction of the city. It seems to almost blend in to the background of the windows, save that the sky in the painting is not still, and empty, but glowing with golden light. As that intricate, majestic eye -- God's Eye -- watches over the city which has now become her world, her universe.