no option but surrender.
Anna reached out to him.
* * *
The great city of darkness spread before Kosh, reeking of the ancient enemy's pestilence. Although he had never seen it, only one feature surprised him. Directly below Sheridan, centerpiece to this vast temple to chaos, stretched a gaping abyss.
It was possible that the enemy had planned poorly, that they had built their city haphazardly around this pit, which created an obstruction that served no useful purpose. Yet Kosh knew the enemy too well; though they spread the pestilence of chaos wherever they went, they themselves plotted and planned with intricate precision. If the abyss was at the center of their greatest city, it was there for a purpose: if not a practical one, then a spiritual one.
The abyss must embody a connection-either real or symbolic-to Lorien, who had once lived deep within the planet. If the connection was only symbolic, or if Lorien had long ago departed, then Sheridan's situation was hopeless. If the connection was real, though, perhaps Lorien would sense Sheridan, and help him.
The possibility did not offer much hope, but Kosh clung to it. For if Sheridan died, it would mean that the forces of order and chaos had destroyed the only hope that their cycle of war might ever end, the only hope that the younger races might ever escape the firestorm.
For millennia, Kosh had burned with the righteous certainty of the Vorlons, questioning solely others, not himself. He had known, without hesitation, that the Vorlons' canon, their methods, their goals, would lead to the greatest good for the younger races. Bit by bit, though, doubt had eroded those beliefs, until now he felt certain of nothing.
Sheridan backed against the parapet, his wife before him, the light of the