[b]Redana![/b]

[i]"Right now is what matters!"[/i] Reality itself revolts against those words. The walls twist and thrash and the stars grow fingers and claw away the veil. Time dissolves in saffron light, rolling back further, resolving from yellow to silver-white.

Thriss walks with you through this. She is young now - fierce and feral, an intelligence so mighty that she might understand the problems you deal with and so predatory she would hunt the stars themselves. She does not know of Cronus' forbidden lores. She does not know that cannibalism in ritual to the ancient father has more power than the gods would like to admit. But you always wonder if she might [i]sense[/i] it. 

Would that there was another like her.

"It is as you suspected, Director," said Thriss. "Humanity as a species is on the brink. Too many have vanished into genetic solipsism - entire ecosystems are sculpted to serve the preferences of individuals. They build their own paradises and spend lifetimes with their own thoughts made manifest. They have become a billion selfish creator gods, each building their own worlds to their own preferences, and then abandoning them due to boredom, apathy or death. Agony follows in their wake."

[b]Dolce![/b]

The paper ignites with black fire right as Artemis has begun to reach for it. "She lives yet," said Hades.

He has come to you in the form of a pyramid of black marble, vast and surrounded by columns woven with gold. Look at him askew, try only to glimpse the fragments - to look at him directly is to confront the reality that scale and stone are but playthings of the gods.

"I apologize," said the Pyramid in a voice that was worthy of it - don't listen to it directly either. "If I had given you future warning that would have enabled Artemis to launch an even more terrible ambush. Redana is trapped upon Hermes' path."

"She is among the wolves," confirmed Artemis, all the more fearsome for how she stands in relation to the pyramid. Hades may be that ancient structure but before it she is the hero who will adventure into its terrible depths without fear. 

"You must become a bandage," said Hades. "You must stretch yourself taught and stanch the bleeding. Tend not to your own wounds."

Moments later, the bars pull away and Alexa enters through the door.

[b]Alexa![/b]

Ramses smiles like sunflowers - finger raising to point as the seeds begin to drip down onto the ground. You can feel the ants swarm across your feet as they gnaw away at the fallen seeds. The pink mist of Aphrodite starts to fade and your spear feels hot and wet beneath your fingers.

"[i]Hunger for her,[/i]" whispers Demeter. "[i]Hunger for her. You want her. You want them. You want to bend and let them break you. You want to take their want. You don't want her to fill you. You want me to fill you. You want to drink me until you're free of you.[/i]"

How is she like this? Her fingers sink into your shoulders like skin instead of stone. You've had the attention of gods before but nothing like [i]this[/i]. She speaks in craving, and there is malice behind that craving.

You have a clear line to the kitchens and Isty is still with you, but Ramses and the Hermetics glitter in the radiance of the rising harvest moon and soon they will bloom.

[b]Vasilia![/b]

This is a place conditioned to obeying the whims of lionesses. There is no resistance from the Lanterns. The only one you must contend with is Demeter.

She walks behind you, casting seeds by the handful into every drop of blood that falls from your many cuts. Each patch explodes into a verdant riot of flowers, grains, tubers, and venus flytraps. Her calloused fingers tug away at your scarf and bite after bite of moths gnaw away at the fabric. Her hands pull your tail and stick into your mouth so that they can trace your teeth and [i]always[/i] she's whispering into each of your senses. 

"[i]Lethe, lethe, lethe. Just sink back! It's right here, you'll be reorganized, you'll be in a new pattern. You are ripe, eggplant juicy, let me make you eat. It's just some indigestion, dear, it's just that you've grown so much that your trellis has ripped off the wall and now the rusty nails are showing and jagged and the clippers will cut you back to your knees. You want to taste it. Open your mouth wide, I can fit the entire river in there.[/i]"

[b]Bella![/b]

You can smell more than the growth now. You can see more than the sensation. Demeter is still behind you, pulling the plough behind her shoulders leaving a deep channel through the steel, but you're more than just that. You can see more than the fact that these things grow; you can see how they can [i]break[/i].

It's just a matter of following the scent. How did you not smell it before? These saffron thieves had stolen one of Nero's treasures. You can smell it radiating out from the heart of the vessel. The enormous beam radiating down onto the planet - that's her. She's there, she built this, and she is more miserable and fragile than you've ever felt her. You just need to get through to the heart of this ship where they've weaponized Imperial suffering. Get there and you can break something that matters. Break that and it might be enough.

Coherent are everywhere, but you have Hera on your side.