It was not day, nor night.

It was not morning. It was not noon. It was not night.

The sky had not blackened. It had not whitened either. The sky had no color, yet I still can not see the stars.

I took a step forward, unto what I knew I once knew as the Hudson.

I stepped into water, but it was not the water I knew. It was thick. I looked down, and it was red.

I stepped into water further, but my feet did not sink. The Hudson was shallow.

I looked forward, towards the southern end of the island. The Hudson between had been filled.

I looked forward, yet did not see. I refused to see.

After, I gave in, and saw. I saw sea of death stretching between the other island and this island.

Torn mechanical corpses had filled the Hudson til it was shallow. Torn biological corpses spread far and few.

I tried to inhale, but I had long ceased to possess lungs. Still, I could smell the sulfur, the blood, the gasoline, the lead.

I stepped forward.

Into the Hudson.

Towards the other island.

It looked different compared to what ever I had percieved it to be. So did the rest of the other island.

I remembered, I remember. I knew that the other island was once a metropolis. Perhaps the metropolis of Heaven. Perhaps the metropolis of Hell.

It was an endless abyss of concrete and glass, of pillars and stones.

But I looked out to the other island, and there were no pillars.

There was nothing. I could see nothing. I could see everything, yet nothing.

I remembered. Remembered where this started. Nineteen-ninety-seven. That date may be centuries behind me now.

I stepped further into the water.

I recognise some of the bodies. I could not tell whether or not they had ceased to bleed.

My wings dragged through the water hemor, yet they did not soak.

Since when did I have wings?

I looked back, but realised I was already looking back, while looking forward.

There was no one. At some point, there were plenty ones. But no longer.

Everyone I know is dead.

But I have ceased to know how to care.

Everyone I know is dead.

But I am not dead.

Does this mean I am already dead, or that I no longer know myself?

I looked forward, rifle in hand. I couldn't see my hand.

Against the noncolor of the sky, I could not see but rather know two pillars, perhaps two-hundred and thirty-four times taller than I.

They were the only thing left on the other island. The other island.

Through the artillery fire and bombing, these two pillars stood firm. Damaged and bent and dented and burned,
but standing.

I looked left, then right. There was absolutely nothing, I thought.

The left pillar had a crooked spire, the right pillar was burnt perhaps all the way through. I could smell the sulfur, the charred carpet, dead offices.

Yet they stood firm. Do I as they?

I was halfway across the Hudson.

The mechanical corpses were piling up now. I now entirely dry of bloodwater.

I briefly remembered their names, only to forget them again.

There was a particularly large corpse to right. It far larger than any of the other corpses. It had no wheels and was painted faint orange with markings a language comprehended but long forgot understanding.

After, I forgot the corpse. I continued walking.

I held my rifle with one appendage, and held the magazine with another. I took out the magazine, and felt its weight.

It was heavy.

I put the magazine back in, and looked forward.

The pillars were far closer now than could have anticipated. It would have scared me had I fear.

Were they close, or were they simply massive? I lacked depth tell.

Liberty guarded the pillars, and I knew then knew why the pillars. What are pillars.

The Gates of Heaven.

I knew the Gates before it were Gates. Had I went away to then?

I stepped forward, and did that many times. I looked Liberty in the eyes. But she did not have any eyes.

Liberty was headless. Liberty was handless. Liberty was godless.

Liberty is in the way of Heaven.

I looked past her to the pillars I saw they were gray. I was saw that they were in between. Heaven was through these pillars.

I knew this place. Thesen't pillars were.

An office of Man, now office of God itself.

I my held rifle. Spread wings I my. Liberty also.

I will kill Liberty.

I will pass through the Gates of the Center.

I will march to Heaven.

I will die.