White Star growing above him, nowhere to go.
In that moment, it struck Kosh that even if Sheridan died and the war was lost, he had made the right decision in coming here. For the war could never be ended with a victory by either order or chaos. The younger races could never reach their fullest potential by being molded into an echo of either the Vorlons or their enemy. The only way to end the cycle, he realized as the White Star plunged toward them, was for the younger races to mature enough to move beyond the two sides to a third side, their own side. In coming here, in defying both the Vorlons and the maelstrom and going past them, to the eldest of them all, the first of the First Ones, Sheridan might find that third way.
Within Sheridan's mind, Kosh spoke. "Jump. Jump now."
* * *
Galen seized Morden's wrists. Shadow skin flowed out from Galen, running up Morden's arms, over his horrified face, coating his body. Galen climbed to his feet, yanked Morden a few stumbling steps, fell with him into the Eye. As the mass of squirming bodies covered them, Galen saw John, high above, jumping from the edge of the balcony, dropping toward the great abyss below. It seemed hopeless for them all, but at least they would try.
A platform pressed against Galen's and Morden's feet, drove them headfirst deeper and deeper, following the wall of the pit. The machine people moved aside. They wanted him to live, for all of them, for all they had gone through. Above, the Eye saw the great cavern filling with light. The White Star was nearly upon them.
Galen knew he wouldn't get deep enough. The bombs were too powerful. But what other shelter was there? The Shadow skin was strong, but not strong enough. Galen wondered if he could conjure a second layer of it. As the