“I remember…bits of it.”

“We were flying on a shuttle through the Eater of Worlds. Chasing after Redana, of course. We were following the Armada’s own shuttles. They bombed it without hesitation. I’m not sure they even thought about it. The land, the people there, the [i]life[/i] there. They had something more important on their minds. Well. More important to them. I think, if I could ask them about it, they wouldn’t even remember it, but if they did, they’d not understand why they would do anything different. Why it was even a question at all.”

Quietly now. For XVI’s sake.

“I saw it over and over again. People chasing dreams so grand they could ignore the people around them. Moving the stars for another’s sake without ever asking if they wanted them moved in the first place. I couldn’t understand why they did it. I wanted to know why they did it. I wanted to know how they could do it. Did you know; they always called it love? When really, it was never about anything but themselves.”

Quietly now. For the children’s sake.

“And still, they could change. Notice. Learn. Choose differently. Let go, bit by bit. It wouldn’t be easy. Wouldn’t be impossible either. But. Still. I wish, there could always be time…”

Quietly now. For a daughter’s sake.

“What a waste.”

One cut. Every joint. Dolce passes beneath Demeter’s throne, and there is a sword in his hand. Only when he returns to Dyssia’s side does he look back, and there is only pity for a goddess.

Had she loved her throne, then maybe-

No. Had she loved her throne, Demeter wouldn’t be here.