As expected by a supreme being, Faetalis picked up on the crisis facing Mae without the horror having to spell it out. Not only that, but Mae was surprised to see that her boss gave the Gorging Trough of all facilities priority. In the grand scheme of things not all of the myriad entities serving the guild needed food to stay alive, and not all of those that did chose a visit to the designated cafeteria over whatever they happened to have on hand for greater convenience. If there was one thing Mae knew about the supreme ones, it was how they valued their time. They were always teleporting everywhere they could, even short distances, running anywhere they couldn’t teleport, facilitating automation and efficiency, and so forth. Even Master Sugi seldom visited his creation for anything other than for specific dishes that could provide the boons he needed. 

So putting the Gorging Trough first, and to the extent that other facilities would need to be sacrificed, made Mae’s black heart swell with pride. The sacrifice of other factories she did not question, for their end meant she could begin anew in her vital duty. Besides, if a supreme being declared that it was necessary, then it was. Mae’s management skills ended at her restaurant’s doors, after all. As the others processed the idea in their own ways she stooped forward in as sincere a bow as she could manage without having a head. “Thank you, ma’am! Big choice to make, and you’ll be glad you did!”

Faetalis manifested a complex shape from light. The chef’s blindsight wound around its effulgent contours, and she recognized the a rather detailed recreation of the guild’s entirety in miniature. A couple at a time, the technomancer gave her overseers their orders. With the fruits of the scrappers’ labor the crafters would pursue their art, reviving the Gorging Trough from a burnt-out husk to an operational factory once more. Mae harbored no delusions about restoring its former glory, but as long as she could do her job, the niceties could come later. While the others reconstructed the physical structure she would push her own portable cooking skills to the limit, a veritable one-woman army in the war against hunger. “You got it!” she declared. “Me and mine will make you proud!”

When dismissed, Mae thundered back out into the open at a brisk jog. On the way she belted out a few useful tips for the sake of her compatriots, since neither Tungsten nor Cormac had even been inside the guts of her domain before. “The kitchen’s the important part!” she told them. “If anythin’s still standin’ it’ll be the kitchen walls, ‘cause they’re brick. If we can get the ovens, stoves, grills, prep tables, washers, and larder fixed, with walls and a roof, we’re in business. The restaurant can come later.”

Long before she got close enough to see her staff she knew their eyes were on her, so she yelled out, “Up and at ‘em, Maneaters! The whole guild’s rallyin’ to save the Trough! And while they’re fixin’ the place up I’m gonna cook for everyone. So get in there an’ salvage everythin’ you can! Look for cans, containers, unburned boxes, pots and pans! Anythin’ not melted to hell! We gotta set up a cookfire right about here.” She found a clear patch of ground away from the ruins and stomped her clog a few times. “Once the ingredients start comin’ in, I’m gonna be busy, so do whatever the other Overseers say!” Having launched into action the moment their boss’s voice hit them, her staff scrambled to get to work. They rushed to and fro, into and out of the remains of the Gorging Trough where ashes still smouldered, digging through and overturning wreckage to find anything that might be of use. Mae bent to the task of readying the makeshift cookfire herself for the use and abuse of her Master Chef skill, and she was pleased to see a steady trickle of her underlings coming her way with salvaged goods, starting with Roast. The fiery girl's willingness to brave the Trough's searing embers netted her a cache of almost untouched canned beans and meats, protected from the destruction by piled debris. Aromatic smoke was spiraling into the sky well before the scrappers arrived to bring her organic materials.