Darkness - vast, all-encompassing, an entire spectrum of black woven like the cloak of night. Upon it hangs tiny stars, not twinkling, but steady as polished steel. Vast gleaming circles ride amid them - asteroid belts, ringed planets, impossibly-large eyes? They could be any of these.

Amid the black-on-black, subtle patterns can be seen - great streams across the void, like ribbons of dust a galaxy wide. They cross and recross, their intricacies drawing the eye inwards, until it is lost in the endless maze.

Something shifts. One of the dark strands twitches, curves upwards, and then with breathtaking suddenness snaps straight, straining like a leashed wolf. The other rivers of night respond, first one, and then all moving at once, chaotic complexity flooding the blackness.

At last it settles down, the web of night forming a new pattern, a new truth. All is silent; all is still.

… and then Iximaz straightens up, and the laces, the eyelets, the hooks and the rich velvet filling her view all return to their normal proportions. She smiles up at Kaitlyn, presses a kiss onto her collarbone, then steps back and nods.

"There you are," she says, patting the fully re-laced black corset. "All sorted."