Even Monarch's death passed like a ripple in a sea of moments, one equation in an algorithm of sacrifice. His people wanted to mourn, evidenced by their gaunt faces, but there was no time to while the rest of the world beckoned. It was Beelz who gave the order to keep going, and Jessica agreed, trudging over the fallen of the 86th floor. One functional elevator carried the last operatives to the next level. And as the number blinked from 86 to 87, Jessica felt a hand squeeze her arm. She was met by the evergreen death stare.
"Make this count or else..." said Beelz.
Jessica pulled away. "I've been counting just to keep my head. Monarch died on the 1,687th second since the start of this mission."