The Prism’s Chamber is an empty place. Those that usually surround the altar, gone. Placed upon a funeral pyre by Vision’s own hands. He draws a deep breath.
“Two men look out from prison bars.
One saw mud, the other saw stars.”
The silence screams of loss surrounding him.
“What I have learned, truer than any other of the Third Eye’s promises, is that life is all about perspective.”
“I see them. But do I see merely loss and waste, or do I see something more?”
Vision begins laying metallic medallions upon the altar of the Prism, each branded with the image of the Third Eye.
“It doesn’t take a blind man to see that taking on the Uprising would always be an arduous mission. Each amulet, a stark reminder of that which has been given for this door to be opened. Each piece of metal, I see the loss that it contains.”
He lays another medallion upon the altar.
“Those that followed me into battle, to their death. Those that trusted in the Third Eye, only to be slain for their faith.”
“Martyrs of my fight, but they hath not died in vain.”
He pauses, running his fingers over the image upon the medallion before him.
“I feel the weight of their sacrifice on my hands as I lead these horsemen into the finality of battle.”
He holds up one particular amulet and it catches the Prism’s light, a smile forming on his lips as a memory passes through his mind’s-eye.
“The outspoken one, who pointed out that I had escaped Deathrow once, and going back to finish this story was utter madness. Yet, he stood by me till his end.”
Another amulet is held up into the Prism’s light.
“He had the gift of sight beyond. He told me my faith began with prison bars, and this war will only end with the opening of yet another prison of sorts.”
He shakes his head, kneeling at the altar.
“When nothing makes sense in the light, we must search in the dark. In the dark, I have found Apokalypsis. The path to end this war comes through them.”
Vision holds only four more medallions. One by one, he places them upon the altar.
A black medallion.
“Pestilence. The sickness which will be overcome with the turning of Gemini’s key.”
A pale medallion.
“Death. That which will be overcome with the reunion this key will bring.”
A red medallion.
“War. Blood that must be shed for the door to be opened.”
The fourth medallion, Vision does not place upon the altar, for it is his own.
“I see them, all. I see their sacrifice. Now, and that which will come. As that door remains locked, all the promises it contains remain hidden.”
He stands, stepping himself into the Prism’s light.
“I cannot fail. At Ring of Dreams, the door will be opened. Narcissa and her Uprising must be stopped and the key found. For I have an altar of believers that have given themselves to offer me this chance.”
“Only when the door is opened can their sacrifice be worth it.”