As the subject of Anzelgard's fate continued to spark deliberation among her leader-turned-compatriot and her Overseer compatriots, the fact that Canology Mae of the Gorging Trough had been elevated to a lofty position among them still didn't get any easier to believe. Like the diver who ascended from the watery deep too quickly, Mae felt like she had decompression sickness. The whole thing happened so fast, fast enough to leave her way in over her head--metaphorically, of course. What could a humble chef, ignorant of the world beyond the walls of her oft-forgotten and only situationally useful corner of the guild, possibly offer a council of war whose arbitration could define centuries of history to come? How could such a grotesque, low-down creature possibly fill the seat of her lord Sugi the Hammer, at least in a metaphoric sense, when all she really knew of her creator was what he liked best to eat?

Yet to fall prey to such thinking was self-indulgent, and Mae indulged herself enough in the Gorging Trough. Had she not just accepted the responsibility of playing a greater role in Infactorium? That she was here meant that Lady Faetalis of the Supreme Beings trusted in her faculties and judgment, even if Mae herself doubted her own qualifications. That meant that the headless horror shouldn't put herself through the wringer with all sorts of sophistry and logic, trying to find and then justify the right answer; she'd been inducted into this illustrious Raid Council to offer [i]her[/i] answer, whatever that might be. She needed only the courage to give it.

That was, naturally, easier said than done. To someone without the benefit of particular experience or perspective, Gammaton and Levia's answers both seemed totally and completely sound. Mae could find no fault in them, try as she might. And yet she did try, for while they made sense, their proposed plan of action left a bad taste in Mae's mouth. As the Queen of Breakage wound down, the headless chef realized that must mean her own opinion ran contrary. That was kind of intimidating in and of itself, since while Mae didn't think for one second that disagreement would result in punishment, she didn't want to kick off her fellowship with her amazing compatriots by being stupid. Still, if she was going to say anything, it would have to be now. If one or more of those yet to speak chimed in supporting the consensus so far, it would only get harder to go against the flow. Canology Mae cleared her throat.

"Well," she began, rocking her immense weight back and forth on her heels ever so slightly. "I ain't one much for economics, or politics, or populations, or anythin' of the sort, really. All I can really say is what does and doesn't sit right with me. And maybe I'm just a big softie 'cause I've never gone out from the home front, but..." Mae rallied all the determination she could muster, and since a resolute crossing her arms was a physical impossibility, she put her hands on her doughy hips. "I reckon that goin' all scorched-earth with Anzelgard right from the get-go would end up bein' a waste. I mean, we could always fall back to it if other plans don't shake out, but there's gotta be more we can make of 'em alive than dead. If Cormac's been yuckin' it up among 'em, maybe we could take it a li’l further. If we somehow got Anzelgard to do our interactin' for us, we could stay hidden ‘til the time’s right." Mae shrugged. "I dunno. Not knowin' in general's kinda the problem. Even after grillin' Riny and that other poor sucker, we got next to nothin' on this world, really. Anythin' could be out there, maybe even other Supreme Bein's, so if we commit to puttin' all our cards on the table right now and tell everyone ‘hey, we’re here an’ we’re a threat!’ we might end up in some real hot water.”

She fell silent then, hoping that she hadn’t just spouted off a bunch of unsubstantiated nonsense, and that what her heart told her was what Faetalis wanted to hear. All she knew was that when she wanted to make a dish, she couldn’t make do with unknowns. She needed to know which ingredients to use and how much to add. No matter how skilled the chef or how quality the ingredients, one couldn’t just wing it and expect to brute force a success. Perhaps the bigger picture worked the same way.