Doctor Dinosaur

A bubbly laughter breaks over a sea of idle chatter, and curious eyes are drawn to the figure kneeling across the street. Lockette Endrinmaster XI kneels in front of a small child, her dinosaur dentures on full display, her tensile tail dragging across the sidewalk. In her palm floats a nexus of lights and sound, created by the tiny audio-visual drones that hover about the mechanic and her growing audience. She creates fireworks and scenes of far-off worlds, visions of great heroes, and eventually expands her visions to the grand dinosaur parades for which she is known. They tower above houses, sticking their heads in windows and chewing at trees, drawing such wonder that even the adults can't help but smile, although they continue about their business.
While unseen by the children, the Haze watches as the tiny drones scan the children for aches and pains, applying Band-Aids and salves while eyes are turned upwards, patching clothes and shoes disguised under little flashes of light. All the while, Lockette laughs and points, tweaking visions on the fly as she recognizes a child in the crowd, and puts in some of their favorite things. The Doctor and her little dinosaurs play and play, but then the sun starts to go down, and parents begin to call their children's' names.
With a flourish, the dinosaurs disappear — both imagined and imaginary — and the doctor returns to her workshop to clean up the mess. Glitter gets dusted off her apron, and little handprints are wiped away with a wet rag. She filters through her supply of Band-Aids and ointments, and refills the ones that are low. Then, with a contented sigh, Lockette falls into her office chair, and looks up through her skylight at the stars.
For a while, everything is still. Lockette's expression slides into stoicism, and the Haze notes Lockette's lack of blinking. The digital clock on her desk ticks away the evening hours, and then slows as we arrive closer to midnight. The vision returns to Lockette's viewpoint... The clock ticks 12:00 AM, Pact Standard Time.
For a sliver of a moment — so fast you could miss it, if you blinked — the stars twitch by a centimeter, like a loop that just barely misses a perfect reset. We follow a single tear as it tumbles down Lockette's cheek, free-falling towards the ground with increasing speed.
When it finally hits the ground, we see shards of Tesin Movahesh in the water, a gun levelled below a set of cold eyes.
"Take what is offered, sister mine."
Bang.
The vision fades...