Before Jin could make any sense of the green tear, or anything that was occurring, he felt the same pair of hands cover his eyes again. Was time repeating itself? He didn't think he could bear any more of this, but he couldn't move his body either. All he could understand was the muffled melody of the organ, which was becoming tiresome and even ominous. Then he regained his sight. He was back in the museum, but in a smaller room. Opposite him was the great, white stone statue from before; now Jin could see it more clearly he realised it was bent on one knee with its long fingers on the ground as if to keep its balance, and stretched out behind it was a magnificent pair of feathered black wings, like a swan's.

Suddenly Jin's feet urged him forwards. As he stepped onto the statue's marble podium the organ faded away into silence, but he hardly noticed. Something was trying to persuade him to kiss the beautiful statue on the lips, so he couldn't help but follow these strange orders. It couldn't hurt, right?

Instantly, Jin saw flashes of bright pink behind his eyelids: faceless people dancing wildly to inexistent music, but he couldn't move again; his lips were still locked with the statue's cold ones. In between the pulses of energetic, colourful movement, Jin saw the kneeling figure again, but the white sheet was now being pulled up away from it soundlessly. He seemed to glide closer to the figure without having to make an effort to move, and he noticed deep, bleeding gashes in its shoulder blades – it had let its striped robe slip off its pale shoulders and had short-cut, platinum blond hair.

The dark cuts, Jin thought, looked as though they had once held a pair of wings which had been ripped from them to leave ugly, bruised marks. Jin was just wondering whether this had any connection to the winged statue when his viewpoint spun around to see the figure's shadowed face, and it looked slowly up at him...