komi_clockworks.27.t:0 "Midnight"

komi_clockworks.27.d:0 "Ink spurted and splattered across the page as Taboritsky scrawled away. His hands trembled as though afflicted with a palsy. Sweat ran down his face in streams, darkening the blood-crusted and ink-stained paper. His eyes were bloodshot and weepy; he had not slept in days. He no longer sat at his desk - it was too near the window, where God could peer down from the Heavens to look upon him with shame. Instead, he was curled up in a corner, back aching, feverishly scribbling. He stared straight ahead, hands moving on their own. He hadn't written anything resembling a word in a week. There was a sound, a scuffling of boots on marble. The Regent glanced up, and felt his heart freeze. His pen clattered to the floor. He tried to stand, but his legs were like lead, and he stumbled to his knees. As he dragged himself forwards, he felt the strength begin to drain from his arms. A pounding began to thrum in his head, a pain like no other - but he pressed forth. For how could any man not be enraptured in the presence of his Tsar? His dark hair was cropped short beneath the golden crown. He wore a cape of ermine, and was bedecked in gold and jewels. He looked older than the Regent had expected, but shone with the light of Heaven, an immortal sovereign for the Holy Russian Empire. Taboritsky opened his mouth to speak, to question, to marvel - but the words would not come to him. The divine grace of his monarch was overpowering, paralyzing his entire body. Every muscle had turned to stone. He blinked - and finally uttered a scream. Bones. A small skull with a bullet-hole in it. Scraps of fine royal clothing stained with old blood were laid over them. The scream turned to a choking gurgle as the pain exploded inside his head, blacking out his senses. He collapsed, staring in horror into the darkness around him. And Sergey Taboritsky, Blessed Regent of Holy Russia, breathed his last."

komi_clockworks.27.a:0 "The thread is severed."