"All we have to do now, is take these lies and make them true somehow." - George Michael "Freedom"

Irina ended her call and clenched her phone in a tight fist. Sloane had figured out where they were. They didn't have a lot of time...

"Sydney. Sydney listen to me" she said urgently once they were inside the bunker. Irina shook her to get her to focus. Sydney met her gaze with a blank stare. "This device is Rambaldi's final invention. It's known as 'Il Dire'."

Sydney looked at the machine pulsing in the corner and then back at her mother, barely interested.

"Rambaldi said it could be used to 'harness time.' Do you know what that means Sydney?"

Sydney still was barely focusing. Irina gripped her arms roughly, impatient.

"Sydney, it means you can go back. You can fix it. You can undo all of this. They don't have to die, honey. You can get them back."

Sydney was blinking rapidly, still not comprehending.

Irina dragged her to the machine and pointed to the inscription written along the edges of its exterior. The reason she knew would convince Sydney that she was the one who was supposed to do this.

Sydney's eyes met her mother's in shocked disbelief as she read Rambaldi's Prophecy. The one that the CIA once believed was about her.

This woman here depicted will possess unseen marks; Signs that she will be the one to bring forth my works; Bind them with fury, a burning anger, unless prevented, at vulgar cost this woman will render the greatest power unto utter desolation.

Sydney shook her head slowly, then picked up speed, backing away. "Mom, no. No, Mom, the prophecy's about you, n-not me."

Irina followed and gripped Sydney's arms even as Sydney continued to spout denials. "Sydney" she shook her and said sharply "Sydney!" Sydney quieted, blinking at her mother. "Sydney" she said more gently. "I tried, the machine won't take me . . . It has to be you honey."

Sydney stood stock-still, breathing deeply, gaze focused inward for a long moment. Irina almost shook her again, but then Sydney said quietly "Ok."

Irina exhaled in relief, then quickly told her what she'd have to do, what she'd need to accomplish if she was going to fix it, fix all of it. When she finished, Sydney reached forward, wrapping her arms around her mother, and hugged her fiercely. Irina hesitated before her arms closed around her daughter, holding on just as tightly.

When they broke away Sydney stepped toward the machine. Heart pounding, pulse practically tripping, she hesitated a moment.

Sydney Bristow looked back at her mother one last time, took a deep breath, then stepped into Il Dire...

...and vanished.

Irina gasped when Sydney disappeared. The hand that rose to cover her mouth trembled slightly as she stepped forward, clumsily running her fingers over the inscription.

She had lied to Sydney.

This machine wasn't Rambaldi's final work. It was made from Rambaldi's works. It was made from his works by Irina. She recognized that in assembling it, she was fulfilling the prophecy, but she didn't care. If the power rendered to utter desolation was Sloane's power base . . . If her daughter could get her life back, she'd build a thousand machines to do it . . .

She picked up the sledgehammer she'd left leaning against the wall. Stepping around the machine, she studied the pieces for the most effective place to start.

She just hoped her lie wouldn't cost her daughter her life.

~*Fin*~

oOo

~*Lie to me*~

Author's Note: Hey folks, thanks for coming back! I hope you'll stick around for a little bit longer for the next (and final) installment in this trilogy. Teaser: It's named "This Woman Here Depicted."

I promise to keep it interesting :-). Either way, thanks for reading!