Jane made a desperate grab for the coin, spinning in the air. With a flip, Safura had set her fate in motion. Heads, eternal life; tails, never-ending darkness.
She had to catch the silver disk before it landed on the platform.
Panic filled her like water in a vase, her fear overflowing and spilling onto the pavement, evaporating almost instantly in the heat of the noonday sun. "Gods DAMMIT!" she cried, tripping and falling toward the still turning disk. Her fingers grazed the silver, and it landed, still spinning lazily, on its edge.
"You lose," stated Safura. His mouth turned up in an evil grin. "Your life is the sacrifice."
"But it's on the edge," she protested. "Neither heads, nor tails."
"That's what I mean," said the high priest, injecting her with serum, then leading her to the adjacent laboratory. Jane laid down on the metal table, helpless, and watched Safura set out his surgical instruments.
"Soon, your consciousness will be locked into a new, metal body, one which will not fade or deteriorate in the centuries to come." He smiled again, a unpleasant feat for a metal man. "After all," he said, "who wants to live forever?"