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in the aftermath of an attempt on his life at the space station, Babylon 5. Since that time, she had tried to look away.

She could not.

She had tried to ignore the light.

She could not.

She was drawn to the light, seeking the truth, not yet aware of the truth that lies in darkness. Nor did she consider the fate of the moth that is lured towards enticing flame-any more than scientists will factor curiosity into their own considerations many months later on that selfsame Babylon 5. She simply knew what she had to do; indeed, she had known ever since her first connection with the Vorlon. She had spent the intervening time simply denying it until she could deny it no longer, and now she had gone to her fate.

Gone to her death.

She felt the coldness creeping through her, and this time when the window misted over once more, she did not have the strength to raise her arm and clean it. She called to the Vorlons, as she had been steadily doing for the past seventy-two hours.

She sensed the complete, final shutting down of her body. She had sought the light, and instead she became aware that the darkness was waiting for her, eager to claim her. And she heard voices within her head. Whether they were born of her imagination or were real, she could not say. The voices called to her, and they said, You have sought the Vorlons. You have sought the bearers of the light. They will not come to you. They will not embrace you, for they do not love you, and they do not possess the truth. And they fear that if they come to you, you will know that. You will sense that. They do not want you to have this knowledge, for knowledge is power, and they desire the power all to themselves.

We, however, love you, the voices crooned. We reach out to you from the place of hiding.
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