Time To Dance
He can feel - taste them - just beyond the horizon.
They are a dancing cacophony of illusion for him to grab and hold tightly. The whirlwind comes to a stop only for him and he steps up to join with his dance partner in destruction.
They are one and the same. Time. No others exist but for them.
The pulse is thick and heady, but he doesn't want to drink too long. Only a small sip to stop a terrible thirst that must be quelled before the poison spreads.
His mind fills, the flow almost overwelming. He reaches out. Drowns in the knowledge of the path he's taken. There is no turning back from this moment, and he pushes away - out - to watch the others dance.
"Bow...to the wormhole weapon."
I really do love that entire scene. *g*