Butterflies danced, flowing upward with an azure current effortlessly infiltrating that dead sky and yes she was alive. These fields gave her strength; they would carry her to the end. There was Harkin, watching the city from afar. Holy Mountain pure. He turned to her and smiled and folded his hands, his rich clothes reflecting some of the sun, his eyes glistening with the exuberance of all life. "The aliens are gone. Once again we are left to contend with ourselves. I wonder what will happen next?" "It doesn't matter," she said. "Oh?"