"If our lives are destined for an end identical to the previous one, then why love? If every moment has already been carved into the surface of Time, what use is love?" Two souls bargaining with the old gods; two souls destined for separation, chained together but kept apart. Who, even if they cried out, would hear them among the thronging masses? Much less help them. Is there ever a moment that we are capable of sacrifice - capable of that something more - when power lies at our fingertips, when immortality is not a question of 'How?' but of when?