It was the fate of the sun to be cyclical, to die and to rise anew in a never-ending pattern; so, too, was the fate of the goddess of that heavenly light.

Amaterasu, her body limp as it was cradled in a vampire's arms, was utterly motionless even despite Raine's concern or Aidou's cold calculations. Her pale skin was drawn over the delicate bones of her human face, and the goddess was cool to the touch, like the sun behind a bank of clouds; her spirit blazed as brightly as ever, but until this strange new shell recovered her light would be trapped as in a stone tomb.

And perhaps it was the hope of the brothers upstairs turning into despair, or perhaps it was a sign that the battle was not yet over, or even a simple token that the goddess did not have the praise she needed to blaze forth in her full glory... but the sun she had drawn finally died. The brilliant light was surrounded by darkness, struggled for a few futile moments... and then dimmed into nothingness, leaving the Sun Room as dark as it was before. In the sudden gloom, Amaterasu's pale skin seemed to gleam ever-so-faintly, like a distant star.

Who could tell when she would awaken from such a state?