she's gonna take you through the tunnel of night
She's sure she'd been capable of more playful, capricious emotions once. Any emotions at all, really. Any anything that served to characterize at least some fluttering scrap of this thing Moebius called eternal life.
Not that they called it that. They all knew it wasn't life - since, after all, life was defined in relation to death. It had to be the opposite of something, the on state to an off state, but whatever Moebius cultivated...wasn't.
And X stood, stands, leerily by, hanging a negative star next to M's limp tissue-paper moon, giggling at the endless nothing of it all.