//------------------------------// // Day in the Life // Story: Greene Fields under Red Lights // by Europa //------------------------------// DAY 21 OF INFECTION: 70% OF EQUESTRIA INFECTED Lyra Bon-Bon said that the beds in the tiny vacation home they owned in Vanhoover were horribly lumpy, stiff, the sheets were too thin, blah blah blah. Personally Lyra had no idea what the hay she was talking about; the bed was fine! After all, a bed was a bed was a bed. She snuggled deeper into her pillows, groaning when the first rays of Celestia's sun sought her out. She tossed over and, with a tug of a forehoof, brought the covers over her eyes. "Five more minutes..." she muttered. Two minutes later, she tossed and turned. Three minutes later, she groaned and curled up into a ball. Four minutes later Lyra decided that she needed coffee and dragged herself out of bed, leaving Bon-Bon where she was; snoring. Lyra was particularly exhausted on this unusual morning, and it would be a great quest to find the little coffee machine, move the parts into place, and then let the magically powered contraption do its work. The vacation home wasn't much. It was certainly a far cry from their home in Ponyville, but they'd bailed when the Princesses had said that an apocalypse virus was coming. Not as fast as Rose, Lily, and Daisy, though. It had three main rooms; a living room that one cantered into right from the door, which split into four; to the left it went to the kitchen, to the right it went to the bedroom (Singular) and at its back were the doors that lead to the two bathrooms. The walls were a hideous shade of sky blue, a few shades darker than Rainbow's coat, that reminded Lyra she never should've let Bon-Bon try her hoof at interior design, no matter what anypony else said. Every here and there was a surprisingly lovely painting of an Equestrian vista. The living room had a few odds and ends, such as a radio and a bright-as-the-sun yellow sofa. A few bookshelves, and turned-over magazines that she'd read through what must've been a trillion times in the past three weeks. After all, it was a really bad idea to go outside, crystal aura or no. Stumbling into the kitchen, her magic flailed to life with all the grace of a drunken griffon, bashed about the counter a few times, before pulling the required thingamabobbers together and turning on the coffee machine. As she pressed the button, Lyra leaned her head back and sneezed hard. She wiped her nose with a fetlock. "Ugh. Where'd Bonnie put the tissues?" Lyra stumbled into the living room, found a box of tissues on the ground, and trotted over to it. Once that was done with, she threw the used tissue into the wastebin over by the corner. Today was another normal day, as normal as things could get with the Plague Goddess running amok. To think, Lyra had touched her hands! She felt unclean and dizzy just thinking about it - no, wait, she was just dizzy. She grabbed another tissue for her runny nose, used it, and tossed it. Lyra heard the clip-clop of hooves on hardwood floors and looked over to see Bon-Bon walking out of the bedroom, rubbing an eye with her forehoof. "Is that coffee I smell?" she droned. "Knock yourself out." Lyra couldn't put her finge - hoof on it, but something was missing. Of course, it didn't help that the light from their crystal coats was constantly - where were their crystal coats?! "Uh, Bon-Bon? Why aren't we sparkly?" Already she was thinking it. Already, ice-cold terror was forming in Lyra's heart and dragging down her normally cheerful demeanor. "No," Lyra whispered. "No, nononononono." She needed a tissue. Oh sweet Luna her nose was runny! And she was dizzy! "No, no, no..." she said, trailing off and sitting down, head hanging limply. "Lyra?" Bon-Bon asked, sniffling sickly. "What is it?" "W-W-We're not, no crystal field, oh sweet Celestia she got me, she got me." She curled into a ball and started hyperventilating. "She got me she got me no no no no I don't wanna I don't I-I don't wanna..." Right away Bon-Bon was behind her, wrapping her hooves around Lyra's front. "It's okay," she told her. "It's okay, it's okay." "How?" she breathed. "She got me, I'm infected. I'm turning into one of them Bon-Bon, one of them!" She paused, and her eyes went impossibly wider. "No, no no, you too, no please no..." The earth pony at her back stifled a gasp, but Lyra felt it clear as day. Still, she didn't let go, squeezing her tightly until she stopped hyperventilating. Suddenly, Bonnie turned her around so she was face to face with her, both of them laying on the tan carpet. "Lyra, look at me. Look at me!" she insisted, forcing Lyra to look into her slightly-reddened eyes. "Breathe, breathe. We're gonna be alright, okay? We're... we're..." She trailed off, looking down, then looked back up. "Come on, lets get you to bed. You're sick, y-you need plenty of rest alright? Get your lyre and... and play something. Anything you want. That always cheers you up." "Yeah," Lyra said, pulling away from Bon-Bon. "Let's just get br-breakfast first," she said, wiping away some tears and floating another tissue her way. Once that one was spent and tossed into a wastebasket, Lyra and Bon-Bon trotted over to the now-completed coffee machine, got a few cups, milk and sugar, and sat at the checkerboard table to drink. She lifted her cup, with plenty of sugar and milk because why not to her lips. "Bleh!" she spat. "This tastes awful!" "You're sick," Bonnie said, putting her own cup down after a long sip. She briefly gagged. "Of course it tastes bad. Now stop whining you big foal and drink." "Okay," she grumbled, finishing her coffee. They opened the icebox, a Never-Melt, for some more milk. Then one of the cupboards for a sandwich, some mayo and fried hay, tomatoes, and finished breakfast. All the food tasted like sawdust. It wasn't just the soul-crushing despair of being infected, it was the infection itself. As breakfast passed, both she and Bon-Bon got worse quick. She had to keep coughing to clear her throat, and as her beverage went down it felt like her windpipe was trying to close up. To say nothing of the buzzing heat that made her woozy. "Oooh," she moaned, pushing herself away from the table. " 'm gonna go to bed." "Good idea," Bon-Bon said. "I'm gonna go see if the paper's out." "What about the outside?" "What about it?" she asked. "If we're infected then so's everypony else in the area. Not like we can make it worse." "Mrr, true." Lyra clip-clopped her way back into the bedroom and dove under the sheets like a whale, the pale blue sheets resting heavily on her. Even then she shivered uncontrollably. Lyra curled into a ball and huddled her legs to herself. It was so cold. Bonnie had suggested she play her lyre, and it was a good idea. That always did make her feel better. But laying there in her bed, with the specter of a fate worse than death looming over her, Lyra just couldn't muster the energy to do it. Eventually she heard Bon-Bon sluggishly trot into the room. "You're sick too," Lyra groaned from under the covers. "Get in the stupid bed and rest, you stupid pony." "Fine," she said. There was rustling, and then Lyra felt Bon-Bon's weight settle onto the bed, making herself comfortable. She hogged the blankets. The fiend. In response to that, Lyra did the only thing she could do in response; she hogged them back. After all it was so cold, she needed the blankets! Bon-Bon tugged them back. Lyra did as well. "Gimme," she murmured. "No." Lyra was suddenly lacking blankets. "You gimme," Bon-Bon said. "No you." Tug. "No you." Yank. "No you!" Pull. Tumble, complete with startled whinny. Fall. "Ouch," Lyra groaned. Dazed, she opened her eyes and looked up at the dandelion yellow ceiling. A moment later Bon-Bon's head poked over the edge of the bed, her eyes bloodshot. "Oh my gosh Lyra, I'm so sorry!" "Mrr," she groaned, stumbling around and getting back on her hooves, her joints aching every time they moved, and even when they didn't. Her head was fuzzy and her brain was stuffed with cotton balls. She pulled herself back into bed, and this time she and Bon-Bon came to a quick truce, settling for splitting the covers and leaning back against the headboard. She looked over to her right, at the nightstand. There was her lyre. She lit up her horn with golden magic and dragged it to herself, holding it in her forehooves. "What do you think I should play, Bonnie?" she asked. "I'm drawing a blank." "Whatever you want," the pony next to her said. "Make it a good one." Right, she thought. Last time I'll ever play, she mused sadly. Now that her initial panic was over, she couldn't work up the endless despair again. The flu symptoms probably had something to do with it, but mostly she wasn't terrified, despairing, or even feeling dread. Lyra just felt... sad. Like she'd been given a project in school and hadn't turned it in on time. She began magically plucking the strings, and after a few minutes closed her eyes to alleviate the burning under their lids. She knew her lyre like the frogs of her hooves, so she didn't need to look at it to play it. She went through her tune-up, and some basic warm-up tunes. Once that was done, she sighed and began playing in earnest. Lyra made far too many mistakes for her personal standards. She plucked some of the strings too hard, others too soft, and sometimes the wrong one entirely! It also didn't help that she kept having to pause to blow her nose. After some time she rested the instrument on the covers and panted. She was still so cold and... was she sweating? Ew. Glancing up at the cuckoo clock hanging over the door, it was barely noon. Lyra wasn't hungry. "That was beautiful, Lyra," Bon-Bon said. "It was terrible," she muttered. "I'm so disappointed with myself." "It wasn't that bad, if you consider the circumstah... ah..." Bon-Bon reached over to her own nightstand and brought a hoofkerchief to her face. "Ahchoo!" "Bless you," Lyra said instinctively. "Ugh, thank you," she said, throwing it away. "But really, you're too hard on yourself Lyra. It was stupendous, even if you are sick." "Heh, yeah," she said. "Tell you what, I feel better after listening to that. You just take a nap while you still don't have insomnia, and I'll go whip up something sweet." "Doesn't sugar make you more sick?" Bon-Bon scoffed, almost falling out of bed in her attempts to get out. "More sick than we already are? Take care Lyra, I'll be right back. Try and get some rest." As her roommate left, Lyra sunk deeper beneath the warm, comforting blankets and rolled her eyes. "Yes, mom," she grumbled. She closed her eyes and attempted to sleep, but despite her illness she simply wasn't able to. Was the insomnia there already? The Princesses had said it only arose at the ending stages of the... the transformation, but what if it was always there and nopony had noticed it during the day? She rolled over onto her side, groaning into the bedsheets. Lyra wanted to sleep, but at the same time she didn't. What if she fell asleep and woke up as one of them? She wanted to spend as much time as herself as she could. She didn't... she stifled a sob. She didn't want to die. Very quickly, she had to roll back over, her joints protesting like she were an old mare, and fired her horn to get another tissue. She heard Bonnie grumbling from the kitchen sometimes, but didn't care enough to really look her way. The cuckoo clock continued to tick the minutes away as she tried to get some rest and Bon-Bon cooked, and at three in the afternoon, after going through a box of tissues, several bathroom breaks, and going once to the kitchen for a glass of water and certainly not to sneak one of Bon-Bon's salt water taffies, the food was done. It was dinner... lunch... whatever in bed. Bon-Bon had made a whole platter of... well, everything by the time it was six at night. Both of them laid in the bed, under cushions with ample amounts of water, and Bonnie's trays of caramels, chocolates, taffy, lemon drops, and a whole host of other candies. They all tasted like pale, sickly versions of the sweets that Lyra had eaten in Ponyville. But hey, it wasn't like she'd get many chances to enjoy them later on. Celestia's sun descended beneath the horizon and Luna lifted her moon, forcing them to turn on the lights. As they finished up the last of the food Bonnie had made, Lyra pulled her musical instrument back into her hooves and played again. ***-_***_-***-_***_-***-_***_-*** Lyra was just finishing up her last song, the disease's sapping of her strength making her unable to go on. Predictably, she hadn't gotten better, and the symptoms only got worse. While playing, this time, she hadn't needed to blow her nose, her eyes stung and burned and her forehead buzzed with fever. She shivered in the relatively cold air of their vacation home, and her eyelids drooped. Every one of her joints, including some she didn't know she had, ached. Her neck in particular felt like it was going to snap off. Bonnie clapped her hooves when she finished. "That was great, Lyra," she said, then cleared her throat. "I'm going to go get us some water." "N-No," Lyra said with a random chatter of her teeth. "You were up all afternoon baking, lemme get it." Bon-Bon may have tried to protest, but Lyra was already out of the bed and stumbling out. She went into the living room, and the kitchen. Blearily, she found two cups and poured a bunch of water into them from the sink. By some miracle of ponies not letting their infrastructure implode, they still had running water. That was when it first happened. Just as she was getting ready to bring the cups back her stomach lurched, making her drop the two plastic cups. Lyra bent down and groaned, then her stomach lurched again. She leaned down and opened her mouth, then vomited a small amount of blood. Once done she stumbled back, watching the red fluid mixing with the spilled water and turning pink. She shook her head. "Ugh, so halfway there huh? Great," she complained, getting another two glasses of water in her shaky magic. Lyra was about to return, but then she looked left, then right, and downed both cups before refilling them. The cool water felt heavenly flowing down her parched throat, but immediately after the soothing sensation was gone. She took the two glasses and brought them back to the bedroom, floating one over to Bon-Bon and releasing it when she grabbed it in her hooves. "I heard something spill," Bon-Bon groaned, downing the water in a moment. "What happened?" "Eh," Lyra said dismissively, crawling back into bed and pulling a trashcan to her side. "Threw up blood. Guess it's that part now." Internally, Lyra knew she should've been freaking out, but she couldn't muster anything beyond regular fear. Normally when she was sick she slept most of it away, but she couldn't. Add the exhaustion from the infection to the natural tiredness from the end of the day, and she just couldn't care that much anymore. She still really didn't want to become a zombie, but panicking about it was too tiring. "Really?!" Bon-Bon said. "Huh. Get me that trash can, please." Lyra did, floating the other wastebasket over to Bon-Bon's side of the bed. "Thank you." She brought it up to her muzzle and retched into it, then placed it back down. "Well, I guess we got twelve hours left. At most. Whaddaya wanna do?" she asked. "I think..." Lyra said, placing a hoof to her chin and looking up contemplatively. "That I want coffee. Then we should, I dunno, say our last words to each other? Secrets and stuff like that while we still can?" While Bon-Bon nodded, Lyra was suddenly overcome with a faint buzzing in her head and the sudden sensation that she was being watched. She snapped her head over to her right; there was nopony there. She was being silly, no concern. What had she been on about? Oh right, coffee and deepest darkest secrets. A few minutes and a couple dry heaves later, she and Bon-Bon were drinking their tasteless black coffee in the living room. Bonnie, the pig that she was, had hogged the couch and was splayed out on it face down. "So," Lyra asked. "You wanna start?" The earth pony considered that for a moment, took a sip from her coffee, and nodded. "Alright. Remember back in school, for Hearts and Hooves day when Thunderlane got a letter from a secret admirer?" "Get out," Lyra said, widening her eyes. Bon-Bon smiled, blushed, then vomited blood into the trash bin she'd brought with her. "Guilty as charged," she muttered into it dejectedly. "What about you?" Lyra grimaced, and steeled her nerves. "Alright. You, um, remember back home, last month? I... kinda used your toothbrush after I dropped mine in the toilet." Bonnie leveled her with a cold glare, then shook her head. "That is disgusting." "Well it doesn't matter anymore, does it?" she asked cheekily. "Anyway, I'm sorry." "Eh, water under the bridge. Oh, anyway. I got a secret, it's a... um." Bon-Bon looked around fearfully, as if somepony was going to suddenly appear out of nowhere. "... doozy?" Nopony appeared. "Right. So." Bon-Bon suddenly caught fire, the green flash of light making Lyra scream and hold a leg to her eyes. The light faded and Lyra lowered her foreleg. "Gimme some warning next time! Darn, that's bright." She blinked a few times at the black figure on the couch. "Huh, so how's this work? You foalnapped Bonnie or made her up completely?" It didn't really surprise her. Sure, it was completely out of the blue, but Lyra found that she really couldn't care too much. Her head hurt... "The, uh, second one," the changeling said. That made Lyra frown. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. After all, if the real Bon-Bon wasn't cocooned in a cave somewhere, then the real Bon-Bon was infected. That was sad. "Oh," Lyra whispered. "So, changeling huh?" The changeling, who looked more like a stallion than a mare, nodded and spoke in Bonnie's voice, but with the double-echo. "Yep. I've been Bon-Bon ever since I learned to shift." "Hmm," she hummed. "Secretly a changeling. Gonna be tough to top that." Bon-Bon smirked. "Just try it." Lyra placed a hoof to her chin and spent the better part of ten minutes thinking. The coffee helped, but the spikes of paranoia and overall not-being-well didn't exactly grease the wheels of her train of thought. "Um... yeah I got nothing." The changeling laughed, showing off fangs. "Guess I win. Urk!" She leaned over and threw up green blood into her trash can. "Ugh, it's even worse like this." Emerald fire began to spark along the chitin, but then stopped. "Eh, to Tartarus with it." "Aha!" Lyra shouted. "Got it! I actually dropped out of Princess Celestia's school for Gifted Unicorns." Bon-Bon looked at her with narrowed blue eyes. "Lyra, I already know that." She threw up her forehooves. "Fine then! You win." She slumped back down. "Stupid Bon-Bon." "Actually," she chittered. "Could you just call me Gena?" "Meh, not like it matters much. Sure thing, Genie." "But - " "Genie," Lyra insisted with a chuckle. There was a familiar tug in her stomach, making her eyes bulge out. She pulled her head over her own trash can, looking down at the fluids already within, and retched. Gena patiently waited for her to finish. "So, what's with the whole living in Ponyville thing? I mean, if you're looking for like, government stuff there's better places." Gena snorted. "Please! Spying is what infiltrators do, they're army." She huffed and looked away from Lyra. "Bunch of stuck up horseflies. I'm a harvester; get love, send it back, don't starve." "That's nice. So you're like... I dunno, like the farmers of changelings." Gena smiled. "Very." They both put their heads down and groaned. Lyra felt another wave of illness wash over her, her feverish head throbbing. Her neck really hurt, like she was growing a second head. She could feel the disease in her, changing her, spreading throughout her body and devouring the pony that existed before. Gena got off the couch and buzzed her way into the kitchen, bringing back two more glasses of water. "Thanks," Lyra said, taking her water out of the changeling's green aura and into her own. "No problem," she muttered. The next few hours passed in painful monotony. Neither of them had the energy to do anything but make small talk and lie there, vomiting into their trash cans and drinking water. Lyra knew that she was almost out of time, and she was scared. The clock continued to tick as she and Gena spoke about their foalhoods - nymphhood for her - and of how they felt about everypony. Clear the air, as the clock ticked past midnight. "Something I don't get about this," she told the changeling. "I mean, you say it was always you, but I've met your parents." She nodded from the floor; they'd traded places and now Lyra held the couch. "Yeah, you have. Harvesters all the way back." Gena winced and placed a hole-riddled forehoof to her chest. "Ow." "Hmm, what's causing that?" "Hay if I know," Gena groaned. "Tumors?" Lyra nodded, her head swimming with the motion. "Maybe. So anyway, whaddaya think of the Princesses?" The infected changeling shrugged. "They scare me. I mean, I know they're nice and all but still. If they found out about me..." "Eh, don't sweat it. Everypony's got bigger things to worry about." Gena chuckled. "Yeah, you're telling me. Everyling back home's so worried about me. Especially since I told them about what's happening." Lyra raised an eyebrow, and instantly regretted it when the motion made her headache flare. "Thought you never left." "Eh, hivemind. Getting kinda quiet though. Stupid alien can't even let me keep that." "Aw, cheer up Genie," she said with a tired smile. "You'll be getting a new one soon." Genie groaned and placed her muzzle in her hooves. "Ugh, don't remind me." ***-_***_-***-_***_-***-_***_-*** Things progressed. Eventually she and Gena both gave up on the trash cans and just threw up wherever. On the couch, the rug, hay even on themselves. They really couldn't care and besides, it felt kinda nice. Both of them laid on the ground, Gena's shimmering wing resting over her. "You know," Gena said, her voice cracking from dryness that was unusual even for changelings. They'd long ago emptied the house of all food, and the running water was gone now. "I think I love you." "Hmm?" she asked. "Really now." "Yeah," the noticeably taller changeling said. "You're like... you're like a sister to me, Lyra." "Mmf," Lyra muttered. "You too, Genie." Lyra's neck really hurt and beneath the coat, felt a bit wrinkled. Same with the back of her hind legs. "I dunno," Gena continued. "If that's the infection talking or not, but you really are like family to me. It was... nice knowing you, Lyra." She wiped a tear out of her eyes. "Y-Yeah, you too Genie." Overcome with exhaustion, Lyra closed her eyes and rested her chin on her forelegs. Behind her eyes was familiar blackness. She knew she couldn't sleep. It wasn't possible; she'd tried not long ago and gotten nowhere. But closing her eyes, despite the burning sensation behind them being gone, still felt good. There were flashes of light. Not the familiar squiggles caused by the faintest amounts of light interacting with the blood vessels in her lids, but actual flashes of light and color. All at once, there was a massive flash that was gone as soon as it came. Lyra felt Gena shiver next to her. She knew what it was, of course. It was a picture of eyes, gone the moment they appeared. Alien eyes, watching her. The flashes came more times, until Lyra's eyelids had Elizabeth Greene's watchful eyes imprinted on them, a web of red and white tentacles extending away from the immediate area around them. Lyra tried to look away, but it was impossible. Like one of those paintings that always follows you. Her fever had broken, mostly. Her head still felt so hot, her horn and brain buzzing. She... wasn't as creeped out by that as she probably should've been. There were... whispers in her ears, she realized. They weren't coming from the deserted street outside, or the changeling that was her friend next to her. They were... from inside her own head. Right beneath her ears in fact, too quiet to make out but growing louder and clearer. Greene's eyes flicked left and right, and settled on Lyra. 'Child, children, children oh, care care care.' Lyra felt an unexpected spike of emotion at those words. They made her feel... happy. Why did the desiccated echoes of an Evolved make her feel happy? 'You all you, go south Baltimare. You all you, go Manehattan. Burrow. Rise. Behind. Coming, hold out.' Lyra shivered. So that was what Elizabeth's hive mind was like? Creepy. 'Warm warm, care. Over there, run. Alicorns, flee,' Elizabeth urged. Suddenly, there were more voices, deep and suave stallions. 'Chrysalis here, forced to retreat.' 'Life here gone. None to bless.' 'Mother, need help. Shining Armor here, Twilight Sparkle here.' 'Coming,' Elizabeth rasped in response to that last one. She wasn't just hearing Greene now. She was also hearing other infected. There were more and more of them, but mostly they weren't actually words but mental pictures, forming a sort of high-speed slide show behind Elizabeth's watchful eyes. A deep sense of belonging settled over Lyra. She really didn't want to be a zombie but... it wasn't really that bad. Warm and fuzzy, really. Like she were wrapped up in snugly blankets. Next to her, the changeling shifted. 'Crystals down. Bless them, mother?' asked another deep voice. 'Bless them, fall back. Go there, check quarantine strength, come back. Going to Bless,' Elizabeth said in response. Lyra had to admit, she was really smart if she could split her attention like that. She was inexplicably happy about that, and gave her a small point of pride. Like somepony had complimented her parents. ... who were her parents? She was having trouble remembering their names, their faces. That was probably a bad thing. I don't want to be a zombie, she thought slowly and carefully. Immediately she was greeted by a maelstrom of emotions, comforting her and placating her and Mother-will-make-it-right. Would she? Mother - Elizabeth she meant, how could she help? They were so far away, and she was the cause of all this trouble, wasn't she? Suddenly the eyes focused on her, narrowed, then lightened. 'Transition painful painful painful sorry,' she apologized as Lyra's connection to the hive mind deepened. 'Will be nice now, Blessing almost done, family. Daughter oh my lovely daughter... please stand.' Unsure of what else to do, Lyra stood. It felt rather good to do that. For one thing her joints were getting tense, especially with the bulges on her hind legs. For another it felt good to obey her, to listen to what Greene told her to do. That was new. It couldn't really be that bad. Nothing that made her heart tingle like that could be bad. All she had to do was listen to Her and everything would be fine. She'd make sure of it. Her head stopped buzzing and her headache vanished. 'Check room, make sure no fires start.' The pony did just that - she knew her name was similar to something she'd done but she just couldn't put her hoof on it - and went for the kitchen while the one next to her - was her name Bonnie or Genie? - went for the bedroom. She inspected all the various appliances through bleary eyes and, satisfied nothing would catch fire, nodded her head. It was a little difficult to do with the tumor on the back of her neck, but nothing too bad. She opened her mouth and let a trickle of Mother's love in, tasting like honey. 'Come outside,' Mother told them. She and her changeling sister did. 'Crystal field nearby.' In her mind's eye, a shimmering blue aura that stopped and singed Mother's Blessing appeared. Her happiness dipped from ecstatic to joyful for a moment. 'Break it.' She started in the direction that She had so graciously provided. Next to her, several dozen of her brothers and sisters did the same. One of her Strong Sisters bounded across the rooftops and overtook them. She didn't envy her for her strength; why would she? Mother had made her like that and chosen not to make her like that, so it was for the best. She continued on, wrapped in the warmth of Mother and her millions of siblings, approaching the shimmering blue wall that had angered Mother. Mother told her She wanted it gone, so she would destroy it. Of course she would. She'd do anything to deserve the joy that She gave her, that the most sacred of beings saw fit to give Her children. There was nothing she wouldn't do for Her, nothing. This was good. This was right, and it had always been that way. Whenever she blinked she saw Her warm, caring gaze drift across her, watching out for her and that made her so joyful, that Mother saw fit in Her infinite glory and holiness to watch through her eyes! Anything for Her. Anything at all. She loved her Mother.