remained were not particularly fanciful, either. In fact, they remained where they were with extremely satisfied expressions on their faces. For they knew their time was at hand. They knew the truth of things. They knew the beauty and glory of the city, and what truly lay within the confines of Thirdspace. They knew the greatness that waited for them.
But they realized something. All of them, down in the Zocalo, and in the Sanctuary, and throughout key points at the station ... all of them slowly became aware that something was to be required of them. Greatness was not simply handed down- it had to be earned. And that earning would not be easy, no. But then, trulv great goals were never, easilyJichieyvd^ ^ ...wmuu of the city and its residents. The way had to be cleared for them. Cleared for the One who would be coming through.
Babylon 5 could simply have been obliterated, of course. Smashed into nothingness, blasted into oblivion at the moment when the artifact was activated. But the One wanted a staging area, wanted a facility it could put to use for its minions.
And furthermore, Babylon 5 had known the Vorlons. The One, even from his place in Thirdspace, sensed that. Vorlon feet had trod its floors, Vorlon wings had beat the air, Vorlon energy had been released. Clearly the station had held meaning to that foolish, pitiful, and benighted race, and it amused the One to use the place beloved of the Vorlons for its own purposes.
Besides which, there was the immediate use to which Babylon 5 could be put: namely, as a source of energy. The forces of the One caressed the station with their probes, lapped up the energy eagerly, and readied themselves to make the jump into the new realm. The realm that would soon be taken for the One, sacrificed to the One, destroyed