just like a child, girl. aisha.

. MOST OF WHAT'S LEFT IN ME IS A SPARK

The moment his sword digs deep into her leg she knows it's over. When it slices clean through and she tumbles to the ground - that's when she starts to get scared.

"No, no por favor-"

"The rebellion is dead."

And so is she, Aisha Aquino. Bloody hands clutch at her leg as she yelps and squirms on the ground for her sword, but it's too late. She's too far gone.

Every move she makes is agony. Even breathing. Gasping for air. Her lungs might last just a little longer but the way the world spins, air heavy with dust and the gravitas and what is happening to her, she knows her heart will stop before her chest collapses inward.

Slowly, slowly, her words are slurred and she wobbles and shakes underneath the weight of trying to pull herself up. Her chest meets the sand with a thud, hollow breaths joining the whimpering that leaves her throat.

"Mi angeles." 

A whisper. A chill that runs through her spine.

The sky tilts, her vision with it - flooded with her own tears. 

"Angel de mi guarda dulce compania..."

Furious tears of a dying girl, fighting a battle she cannot win. A fight to stay alive. Still, she prays to her angels for a miracle.

"No me desampares,
ni de noche... de... de... aaaaaRRRGHHHHH!!!"

Sobs consume her, slamming her fist into the dirt as she shakes with rage. "¡No como este!" -- she's like a child, time warps her back and forth.

"¡NO COMO ESTE! ¡MALDITO SEA!"

The chaos of this place stays. She consumes it, spits it back out, as she dies. Rage, against those that put her there. Against the world she was born in. For everyone that died before her and for everyone that would die after her. For her family, for her friends, for the little girl she broke out of jail.

For herself.

"No como este, por fav..."

Heartbroken, full of rage, choking on a desperate plea that falls on deaf ears. There's no use. She is dying. But Aisha knows she must finish what she started. If no-one here will listen, then perhaps the angels will.

Heaving in oxygen, she continues on with trembling lips.

"Ni de dia.

No me dejes... solo, q... que... que me perderia..."

Fading. She's going. She's leaving, soon, soon-

"Que me perderia..."

Time sees a spark from where she is, lost somewhere. Lost, but able to be found. Time becomes curious, takes a closer look, and sighs.

Ah.

Time steps forward into Aisha's swimming, dancing, exploding vision. A little girl. The same place, in a different time. No longer crying. No longer choking on her own blood. Aisha blinks up at her: Niñita.

It's all she can do now.

All that's left of her to give.

Time looks at her closely and feels it. Exactly what she needs - a spark. Here, in this very girl's soul. Exactly what she has been waiting for.

The little girl smiles, ever so gently. 

Time holds out her hand,
and Aisha takes it,
and the universe explodes.


And so the in-between was created.

AND THE WIND BREATHES HEAVY .