[b]Jezcha![/b]

The sound of thunder fills your head and makes you deaf. For a moment, you think that it is just more of the apparitions that have surrounded this arena. But, no, as the smoke and shadows lift, you can see that the great gate of the arena has been blown apart. It is the most terrible destruction you have ever seen inflicted upon your city, and your heart leaps into your throat.

Shamash stands, smoking, in the center of the arena, one fist still extended. That terrible gauntlet vents with a bestial roar, and Shamash lets it fall to their side. [b]"Find the body,"[/b] they say, their voice inscrutable. [b]"Or what is left of it."[/b]

You don't say anything. You can hear the blood pounding in your head. To kill the human, the God of Motion unleashed the [i]Huwawa[/i]. How... how terrible... how...?

No. It must have been justified. You rise to your feet, and with a dry voice, cheer the god who defeated an impossible foe. "Shamash," you cry, and your friends among the stands rise, too, desperate. No, not desperate. They, too, understand it was the only way to win. There will be stories told about this day, when Shamash slew Canada the Destroyer.

"Shamash! Shamash! Shamash!" The stupid slaves take encouragement to cheer their savior, but the prod of their guards gets their tongues working, even as Shamash's chariot descends to take them back once more to Babylon. "Shamash! Shamash! Shamash!"

Only your sister sits and says nothing. Dumb blind fool. One day, you will be rid of her. Maybe you should talk to the Inquisitors about her failure to show piety today...

***

[b]Canada! Marianne![/b]

You fall into the deep places of the city.

Down here there are vast machineries; there are storage-vaults; there are sealed tombs. There are shield generators; there are weather engines; there are hidden chambers. Here, there are passageways that lead from temple to temple, sealed thrice either way; here, there are oceans of oil and seas of circulated water; here, you are not meant to live. And yet you fall into the dust, hours away from the city far above, tangled among each other; and there is nothing but the wetness of your tears. There is no light, yet there is no silence; all around is the sound of strange and terrible device.

You are alone together. How cruel, to be so.

***

[b]Anathet![/b]

There is a huge and terrible sound that comes from the south. The kind of sound that signals disaster; the kind of sound that is so large it echoes across the bay, where the old city lies. Smoke rises, as do Shamash's chariots. But you're not supposed to do this; you're supposed to go and make sure everybody gets released on time. If you hurry, you can hit the release points and get everyone to scatter well before the Seneschal is found, but it's going to be tight. That means you need to stop crying and compose yourself. Get it together, girl!

How do you find solace and do what is needed of you tonight, Anathet? How do you find the self-control to keep going even when you just want to sit in a corner and cry about how awful everything is?