you sit with her on an overgrown chunk of stone that was once, long ago, part of a building. the two of you stare at what's left of a centuries-old park in a city long abandoned. rotting.
there's a monument still standing, in the center of the park. an obelisk, black stone, pointed at both ends. floating in the air above a pool of scummy, mirror-still water. you walk up to it and pass your fingers beneath the obelisk and the energy sets your feathers on end. she stays seated where you left her, eyes locked on the monument
there is writing, there, but you never learned to read the old script
"what does it say?"
she shuts her eyes, and the halo behind her head dims
"it's a memorial to those who died. all of them, up until the dawn of the bright age."
"ah"
"they thought those deaths would be the last. they thought they would live forever. they should have."
you look around at the ruined, vine-choked city. this park is a day's trek into it from the outer walls, and the sun—the terrible blinding earth-sun—is starting to sink low through that strange blue sky, now fading to flame-colors still too bright and vivid to look at comfortably.
clearly, the builders of this city did not live forever.
"but you're still here," you say
"only part of me. nothing approaching what i once was."
"do you miss it?"
"i do. and yet, i never would have had the freedom to do this, before."
"i'm glad you have that freedom now, for what it's worth."
"thanks"
the sun sinks low, and you hold hands with the nanotechnological demigod on the rock beside you, leaning into her for warmth as the atmosphere cools. chill air on your scales, as you and her wait for the ghosts to come out.