Shortly after Leonie is brought back down below into the innards of the Central Sun's sphere, the draconian technician finishes out the procedure of Leonie's transformation. The crucible, still turned on its side contains a small amount of material still left behind, material no longer with Leonie.

Reaching into the container of tools staged up on the tower in the desert, the technician pulls out one more container. Climbing into the crucible now almost empty, the technician uncaps the container and scoops up the remaining liquid. The container filled glows with a bright yellow light.

"To the vault with you, little one." The draconic technician speaks to the flask holding light.

Once all the machinery is reset into its original starting position, the technician descends back into the tower and takes the elevator down, first destination one of the many high security vaults storing the Central Sun's most valuable treasures.

Once safely stored deep where no wandering eyes have ever reached, the vessel's contents begin to cool, the flask's design and temperature of the room designed for a controlled cooling process. As the yellow energy congeals it takes a more solid form.

Once cooled completely, the flask is filled with liquid to allow the form within to sustain itself, the cylinder itself connected into a system that provides constant flow and filtration for the liquid for extended periods of time without need of active monitoring or maintenance.

Stored within the flask is a small fairy that can only look out into the cool, sterile vault of which it is but a single treasure among countless others. Soon the fairy realizes its predicament and sings out in pain and longing for a heart now missing.

All of the countless containers within the vault all resonate with the songs of trapped fairies, but nothing escapes the cylindrical confines of those containers built by the Central Sun. A chorus of songs goes unheard by all save the voice singing, the sorrows all compounding in loneliness.

The cylinders do their job well, allowing the fairies to sing at the top of their lungs while the vault sits in total silence. All the bottled-up fairies have is their hope, and many lose that over time, falling into a deep sleep. Some fairies slept for centuries, others for millennia.

The newest fairy arrival carries something the others all lack, a memory, and through that memory, a connection to life outside the confines of the cylinder, the vault, and the sphere of the Central Sun. This memory glows bright, and the fairy glows brighter than all other prisoners.

The fairy calling itself Leonie remembers the Witch, and that memory stirs in the dreams of a woman sleeping in a stateroom aboard the White Horse back in Earth's space. The Witch tosses and turns and Pleni, in the other rack within the stateroom, notices.

"You feel it, don't you?" Pleni says to the Witch.

"Yes, I can't sleep, if that's what you mean." Answers the Witch.

"It's more than that. Calm you mind and connect with that feeling within your heart."

"It's more a pit in my stomach."

"Truly it's both."

The Witch does as suggested and meditates. Minutes pass and the Witch feels herself on the edge of waking consciousness. Just as she is about to pass into total unconsciousness, the Witch is ripped from the confines of her rack and tossed through time and space.

With a harsh and fast journey though a tunnel of light, the Witch awakens somewhere small. She is inside a container. The Witch feels the edges of her . . . prison is the word that fills her mind. The prison is cylindrical and filled with a strange liquid. There is no where to go and nothing to do.

There is nothing to do but sing, and the Witch does sing. The fairy looks out beyond the transparent cylinder walls and sees lines of cylinders stretching out in either direction on endless shelving, stacks of cylinders containing stacks of imprisoned fairies.

When the fairy senses the arrival of the Witch within themselves, her heart jumps and fills with joy. The fairy cries out, "Liberation!"

The Witch screams in her sleep, "Liberation!"

Pleni watches with steady eye.

The Witch wakes up in a cold sweat and asks Pleni, "What just happened?"

"You saw what we all no longer can see. You see those lost to us."

"What do we do?" The Witch asks, "The despair. The loneliness. The terror of it all."

"We do as we are doing," Pleni says, "We have five of the Central Sun's own. The Central Sun will demand the return of their servitors, and we will demand the return of our own to us."

"The numbers. . ."

"Yes. The numbers."

"The Central Sun won't agree to any exchange."

"No, they won't."

"There will be war then."

"Yes, war is already here."

"But how do we even get into that . . . prison?" The Witch asks.

Pleni responds, "You are the key into the Central Sun's vault, but you will not like how we get there."

"How do we get there?"

"Through Leonie."

"What?"

"Leonie will fight. They will fight us. They will fight you. You must win."

The Witch lays in bed with Pleni's words echoing through her head. Fight Leonie. Leonie fight. The Witch drifts into an exhausted sleep as visions of a mantle clad person wielding a sheathed sword and gleaming spear fill her mind's eye. The look on this dream's face is one of dogged determination.