Are You Even Human

They don't know? They don't know!? What the hell do they mean they don't know? After thirty years of this senseless violence and death, after finally thinking we might have some kind of peaceful resolution, after the answers are just within my reach… they don't know any of them!?

"Overwhelming despair," I send, and the entire mass of Legion before me shifts with discomfort.

"We express Our sympathy," the Angel says. "We understand you are here on behalf of your people. We will aid you in what ways we may. We, in turn, would welcome your aid."

Right. Right! Quit being such a little bitch, Julietta. Boo hoo, this isn't the solution served on a silver platter like you asked for, what a fuckin' tragedy. It never is. Don't be so goddamn dramatic and focus on what you can do.

"I understand," I answer, the air beneath me rumbling and shuddering a moment before I feel a powerful suction grasping at my feet. I quickly shift upwards, glancing down to see what the hell that was about, and my breath catches.

This world is incredibly beautiful. It has captured my attention since the moment I arrived. So despite having just come from that direction, I never really bothered to look down. Yet below me (and how is it below me, with one of this world's many planets so nearby in a completely different direction?) lies a massive whirlpool of space, twisting and stretching and swallowing everything it can reach into a chaotic spiral of hunger. It slowly grows wider as I look at it, and some of the Wasps on the lowest rung start to strain against the current, beginning their inevitable descent into being pulled under. A storm rests just below our feet and it is hungry. And yet…

"These rifts are not permanent," I point out. "Why gather above them, and not simply avoid them?"

"Where Legion goes, We follow," the Angel answers. "We cannot let it go without Us."

"Legion is a god," I say. "Can it not be in two places at once?"

"It can, and it is," the Angel says. "Other Councils have gone before us, and thus parts of Legion with them. Now, it is our turn. Our world will be swallowed. Someday, none will be left here. So we must follow."

"Why is Legion traveling to our world?" I ask.

"We do not know," the Angel answers. "But We hope it is a world loved by Legion."

I hesitate, thinking about that.

"I imagine there are many parts of my world it loves, and many parts it does not," I conclude. "Some of our people value unity. Others do not."

"A familiar world, then," the Angel says, seeming slightly relieved. "Such is how it is here. We have answered many questions, and We wish to gain temporary control of this inquiry."

Yeah, that's fair.

"Your questions are welcome," I say.

"What kills our people when we enter your world?" the Angel asks.

"Velocity," I answer. "You appear far from your destination, and accelerate rapidly towards it."

"Shock. Can the pull not be swam against?" the Angel asks.

I push my hand through the soupy atmosphere of the space between this world's planets, feeling the obvious tug. It's more like swimming underwater than breathing air.

"The embrace of my world is thick in some places, but thin in others," I explain, not really knowing a better way to describe the concept of 'atmosphere.' "You descend in an area of much thinness. Some of you will be able to resist the pull. Most will not, and will be trapped on the surface."

"Tell Us. Which of Us will resist the pull?"

I pheromonally indicate the Wasps and nothing else. The people of Legion shudder as one.

"Your largest did not survive," I warn them. "Your Queen likely will, if her blessings enable it, so she and the Council may aid the passage of the others. But the moment you enter, you will likely be attacked by the rest of my people, as they believe you will be here to destroy them. All of the others of your kind who ended up in our territory did so, as they did not understand we do not mark our territory with Domains."

"What do you mark your territory with?" the Angel asks.

"Arbitrary mutual agreement of the people living there," I answer.

"Nothing tangible?" they clarify.

"Nothing physical. Just the will of the many."

Understanding and respect dawns on the aliens before me. It really is easy explaining things in a way that aligns with their ethos sometimes. I wish humans were this straightforward.

"Your people are united in purpose?" the Angel asks.

"In many things, no. In many things, yes. The gods did not exist in our world before they came from yours."

"Then what did you have to give you purpose?"

"We had—"

Wait. I forcibly stop myself before I can say 'we had nothing.' That seems… dangerous. And yet all too true. Before the gods came to our world, we had nothing. Oh, there are certainly people that would claim otherwise. Plenty of people had gods of their own, gods I'm confident are nothing but fantasy. But even if one or more of them are real, what's the sum total of their provable miracles? Nothing.

The miracles of our world come from Nothing, and are Nothing. Yet gods are real. So if we did have a god before all this began… there's truly only one god it could be, could it? The god of humanity. Of Earth. Of the vast, infinite universe that is almost entirely vacuum.

The god of Nothing. Humanity's patron. And according to its followers, the devourer of the other gods. A being even greater than them, possessing a power even they cannot overcome.

"Concern. Why have you stopped speaking?" the Angel asks.

This world is pouring into ours, pulling the gods down to Earth. Is something bringing them here?

"I apologize," I say. "I am new to speaking this language. It is part of my blessings from Possibility, not something I was born with. I believe the answer to your question is complicated enough that it would be a poor use of our time to answer."

As if to helpfully punctuate my point, the vortex below us shudders and grows, sucking in a couple swarms of Wasps.

"Agreement. The mystery shall be unraveled later," the Angel says. "Do all your people look like you?"

"They look somewhat like this," I say, going more-or-less fully human for a bit, fake clothes and all. "The coverings are artificial. My blessings change my appearance, but they do not for most of my kind. We lack Queens."

"A horrible tragedy," the Angel commiserates, which… no.

"It is unremarkable to us," I correct. "When you fall, there will be very many of us. Please, do not kill us. Even if we are not chosen. We are all important to each other. We are all Us."

"Your plea will be shared, and respected," the Angel promises me. "But did you not say We would be attacked by your people when We arrive?"

"Most likely, yes," I confirm. "I will endeavor to prevent this, but I am not all of us. I cannot make promises about the will of the many. However, even should we engage, it will only be some of our kind. The rest will be trying to escape peacefully. I ask you allow them to. If you are attacked, I cannot begrudge you if you defend yourself, but I have confidence in your ability to identify who is fighting and who is fleeing."

"You place a great burden on us," the Angel says.

"You are invading our world, destroying our homes, and threatening our lives," I say. "A much greater burden would still be fair."

The Angel shifts, considering. They look up, past their unpowered troops, past their fellow Angels, and to the Queen, her engorged, vine-like tendrils quivering in readiness.

"Will you take this burden, Omnipresence as Worship?"

The air rumbles in affirmation.

"We will clear the path."
"We will clear the path."
"We will clear the path."

"Go with the strength of Legion," the Angel responds approvingly. "All units: spread out and delay the transfer through the vortex."

"You shall be safe in Our arms."
"You shall be safe in Our arms."
"You shall be safe in Our arms."

The congregation of Legion does its best to move away from the vortex, though the ones closest to it struggle to swim away. I realize, suddenly, that what I've effectively done is convinced the Queen to drop early. Which… could be a serious issue, given the impact shockwave. And also I'll probably look like a traitor to humanity for going into a portal and coming back out with a Queen right behind me.

"I should go first, and minimize the aggression your presence will impose," I say. It'll really be more 'terror' than 'aggression' but I think aggression gets the idea across better in translation.

"Extended dalliance is impossible."
"Extended dalliance is impossible."
"Extended dalliance is impossible," the Queen warns.

"Acknowledgement. Swiftness prioritized," I thank her, and take a deep breath of the comfortably soupy air, admiring the beauty around me for just a split second longer before diving back to Earth. The whirlpool of spatial distortion tears and twists at my body, but I still manage to pass through unharmed, emerging back on the other side.

Earth, I have to admit, has its breathtaking beauties. Yet all the same, I find myself missing something about that other world already. There was something so comfortable, so… intimate. Like something had been pressed lovingly against my side the entire time. Back on Earth, the feeling is gone, as is the near-total weightlessness, so I allow myself to plummet for a while to pick up speed before snapping my body into a more mobile form, leveling out my dive into horizontal momentum.

I need to head east. A quick glance down at Centennial Olympic Park reveals there's no one there, just a few small, impromptu structures presumably created to hide areas so teleporter guy—holy shit I never even got his name, did I—could get everyone out. Either that or he didn't show, and everyone's retreating on foot. I'll need to look as I fly.

Rushing through the air like a thrown dart, I watch the ground below me pass by, searching for movement and life. There doesn't seem to be anything around the park, but as I get farther away towards the major roads, I see dense, clogged traffic, with people trying to drive off and around the streets, endangering pedestrians who are trying to run to safety or home to get in their own cars. Shit. More people are going to kill each other than the aliens. What's causing the jam? Is it just too many people trying to use the road, or… no. There.

An accident. Looks like a rollover. How did that happen on a straight highway? Did someone change lanes hard enough to knock a car over? Doesn't matter, I need to do something about it. There are cars inching by, but everyone's trying to pass at once and it's just going to cause a bigger accident.

Swooping down next to the overturned car, I spread out my domain to check the injuries of the occupants—bad, unsurprisingly. One unconscious, one having a seizure, both upside-down and still in their seatbelts. No major spinal wounds, at least. Not sure what's causing the seizure, actually. There's… oh. Oh.

A pinprick of a domain lies in the center of the seizing man's body, twitching along with his spasms as if it's causing them by burrowing into his brain. Maybe it is. It feels like… Bliss, maybe? Yeah, that's probably a bad thing to have enter your head while you're driving. I grow larger and pump up my muscles enough to grab the frame of the car and drag it off to the curb, hopefully letting traffic flow a bit more easily before ripping off one of the doors and starting to extract the men inside.

Mr. Seizure is first, and I make sure to grow a comfortable head brace of squishy flesh to ensure he doesn't hurt himself after I lie him down, wrapping around the back of his neck and skull before detaching it from my body. It'll die soon, but hopefully he'll wake up sooner. The other guy doesn't need as much help; cutting him down and jostling him a bit is enough to wake him up.

"Hnngh… what? Oh, god! Daryl!"

He scrambles out of my arms and over to his seizing buddy. Rude. Understandable, but rude.

"He'll be fine," I promise the guy. "He's just getting powers."

"He's what? Oh geez, Seraphim!?"

Now you notice me. I suppose that's a car accident for you. Not even a huge winged woman dressed in nothing but feathers is your first concern after that.

"Hi," I wave at him. "Like I said, this guy will be fine. You'll be fine too, but the Queen will be dropping soon, so stay away from buildings or other collapsible structures. Keep heading east on foot and avoid any aliens you encounter. Assuming that wasn't obvious."

"What!?"

"If you want to be extra safe, grab his hand and never let go of it until the military picks him up. Shouldn't be necessary this time, but it's good general practice for incursions. You got that? Head east, stay away from buildings, don't let go of him once he wakes up. Oh, and he might have mind control powers, so keep an eye on your own head."

"Oh. Oh god. Wait, slow down, this is terrifying."

"Yeah, dude, it's an incursion. I'm not trying to make you feel better, I'm trying to give you as much important information as possible as quickly as I can."

I feel the new domain settle, stretching outward to cover a decent bubble around the man who is apparently named Daryl.

"He's waking up," I announce, smothering the new domain in case it's dangerous and he doesn't know how to control it yet. "Hey, Daryl. How are you feeling?"

"Wha…?" he mumbles. "Did we make it?"

"No, a god gave you a seizure and you crashed your car. Don't feel too bad about it, I crashed my car when I got my powers, too. Oh, you have superpowers by the way."

"…Huh?"

"You have superpowers, and you're still in an incursion zone, so let's see if we can stand you up and get you walking, yeah? Up up up."

"What's this on my head…?"

"Flesh helmet. You're welcome. You can take it off."

"Flesh hel—guhargh!"

He tears off my thoughtful gift and flings it into the road, nearly hitting one of the speeding cars rushing by. Yeah, I don't think I like these guys. They're kinda slow.

"That was so you didn't break your neck in the aforementioned seizure," I deadpan. "Anyway, I told your friend everything you should need to survive until tomorrow, so good luck."

"Wait!" the guy whose name I don't know demands. "Aren't you going to help us?"

"I literally just did," I grunt. "And there are now a lot of people in more danger than you. Just get going already, you both only have a few bruises. Don't bother trying to figure out your powers or anything, just grab onto each other and go."

"R-right," he stammers, helping his friend to his feet. The two of them start a painful jog away from the scar. It probably won't be long before… ah. There she is.

The first of Omnipresence as Worship's many tendrils emerges from one of the rifts, bulging with the 'fruits' that remind me of grapes yet are doubtlessly anything but. The portal seems far too small to allow passage to the rest of her, yet the rest of her doesn't follow from that portal at all. Every portal disgorges a piece of her, worms falling out of throats in the sky like rain. And as she does, I feel her domain wash over the city, blow past me and swallow me up. Before she has even finished emerging from the portals above, she starts emerging from the ground below, growing like a forest suddenly gaining a hundred years of age. She rises from the earth, from the buildings, from every surface large enough to house her, and she reaches up to catch herself as she falls.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

It's not enough. A forest, after all, would also collapse under her weight. It eases her descent, at least a bit. The force with which she impacts the ground is still that of an earthquake, but perhaps not as extreme of one as it otherwise would have been. I'm in the air when the shockwave hits, and I ride it as best I can for the increased speed, but it mostly just passes by without doing much to me. It's everything below me that gets messed up.

The sheer amount of devastation unleashed on the city was terrifying to live through the first two times, but it's humbling to watch from above. It's hard to argue that I'm not powerful—I think my track record speaks for itself at this point—but this? Buildings crumble in the wake of the shockwave, falling like dominos casually swatted by a cat. This isn't even a power use. This is just the Queen's arrival.

Did Corruptor of All Creation really think I could become something like this?

I swoop low, no longer trusting my eyes to see the countless people that might be in danger inside their own homes. I let my domain scan the ground below me, piercing through the rubble and searching for life to copy… and hopefully, to save. It doesn't take me anywhere near as long as I was hoping to run into someone lying prone in the wreckage, feeling like they had been asleep until the moment their home had suddenly collapsed around them.

But. They are alive. The Queen's domain has spread, and they are alive. She hasn't slaughtered them all like all her predecessors, and all I had to do was ask. All we had to do was fucking ask!

"I've got you," I call out to the trapped person. "Don't try to move!"

I sink into the rubble, wrapping around and digesting most of it before reaching the person and much more carefully pulling the man free. He can walk, so after I carry him out I set him down in what's left of his yard and stare him in the eyes.

"Head east, okay?" I tell them, pointing. "That way. Just keep walking and don't turn around, and you'll make it."

I don't really know if that's true, but he gives me a shellshocked nod and starts to hobble in that direction. Did I cause this? Could I have done this better somehow? How many people are trapped like this? How many people will die who would have lived? How many people will live who would have died?

God, what am I doing here? Saving people is important, but to save the most people I need to tell the military about everything I've done and somehow convince them not to fuck everything up. I need to get going and hope that someone else can—

"Hey!"

Huh? Who… no. No fucking way.

"Yoo-hoo! Jules!" someone calls out, waving at me from a partially intact porch across the street. A steaming kettle of tea sits on the table in front of them.

"In-Joke!?" I call out. "What are you… what the hell do you want!?"

"I want you!" they call out. "Er, not in a weird way! Well, no, that's not true, it's definitely a weird way. But who cares! Come here and drink more tea with me!"

"I have shit to do, In-Joke!" I shout back. "I can't just sit around and drink tea in the middle of an active incursion!"

"Aww, you sure? Maybe when it becomes an active warzone, then," they say, standing up and bringing their teacup with them as they start to walk towards me. "How about we walk and talk? You can keep scanning the street for civilians while you listen to me ramble. It'll be a date!"

"I can't. I have to—"

"Report to the military, right?" they ask. "Here, catch."

They lob a large, brick-shaped object at me with a slow underhand, so I catch it on instinct. It's… a radio pack.

"Should be set to the right channel already," In-Joke says.

What the hell is going on? Why are they here? What's their game? Christine thinks they're just an illusion projected into my mind. If that's true, this radio isn't real. Are they trying to get me to think I reported to the military in order to prevent me from actually doing it? If that's true, then—ackpft!

I jolt as In-Joke turns their full teacup and thrusts it towards me, splashing the entire contents of the cup all over my chest and face and leaving me soaking wet, the heat lightly scalding my skin as the pleasant aroma wafts all around me.

"What the hell!?" I snap.

"I'm not an illusion, or a projection, or a hologram or whatever other crackshit theory Breakdown thought she was so clever for thinking up," In-Joke says. "Even if I could fool your brain, you'd be able to tell because your real thoughts aren't in there. Drink the tea, and tell me if it's illusory."

How does this bitch keep doing that? Whatever. I oblige, briefly turning myself inside-out to swallow everything on my skin, and sure enough my reserves confirm that I have received an intake of hot water and various organic additives mixed in. Tea.

"If you're not illusory, how are you doing all of this?" I ask. "I'm apparently resistant to precognitive powers, but even if I wasn't, no precog is that good."

They spread their arms wide and flash a shit-eating grin.

"I'm that good, baby. Now call the old white men so we can have our talk."

I scowl but flip the radio on, not hearing anyone talking on the line. Hmm. I hold down the talk button and speak into the mic.

"This is Seraphim. Radio check, over."

There's only a brief pause before I get a reply.

"Seraphim, this is the Atlanta temporary FOB. We hear you Lima Charlie, over."

"I hear you loud and clear as well, Atlanta," I respond. "I believe I have situation critical information."

"Stand by, Seraphim, patching you into the right channels," the base tells me. "Okay, you're good to report."

"I've negotiated a ceasefire with the recently-arrived Queen in Atlanta," I tell them. "She has agreed to not attack fleeing civilians and only engage in self-defense for her or her troops."

There's a much longer pause than the initial wait for someone to respond.

"Seraphim, say again your last," the base asks.

"I've negotiated a ceasefire with the Queen in Atlanta," I repeat. "She will not be attacking fleeing civilians. I know it sounds crazy, but you should be able to confirm this on your end. You either already have or are about to be receiving unpowered noncombatants leaving the domain of an active Queen."

There's another pause. The next voice to answer me is different from the last.

"Seraphim, you are not authorized to negotiate on behalf of the United States military," the gruff voice insists.

"There is literally no one else who can," I point out. "But I know that, and I did not negotiate on behalf of the military at all. I didn't offer them anything. I just explained the situation and asked them not to kill innocent people and they agreed. The aliens seem confused and terrified about this entire state of affairs. They don't know who or what we are, they're only invading us because their home dimension is collapsing underneath them and taking them with it."

"What are you on about, Seraphim?"

"I feel like I'm speaking in pretty plain English, sir. I can talk to aliens. I've got no idea how many of them are up to sit at the negotiating table, but these ones? They are. Get me someone who is authorized to negotiate on behalf of the military and I will translate for them. We don't have to do this whole song and dance. They're people! Negotiation is possible!"

"Seraphim, I'm ordering you back to base. To Fort Moore, specifically."

What?

"…What?" I ask. "I'm being recalled from the engagement?"

"Do I need to explain to you all the ways you've broken protocol? You were witnessed flying into an incursion rift. For all we know, the same person didn't come back out."

"What, do you think I got replaced by a different shapeshifter!?" I snap back. "We got thrust into a shitstorm and I did what I did to minimize casualties on all sides!"

The voice on the other end is even-toned, delivering the final judgment as impartially as possible.

"Seraphim, there's only one side you should be concerned about. You have your orders. If you aren't back at Moore in the next two hours we're labeling you as rogue."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! These stupid, blind morons! How does idiocy this big get into positions of power and authority? No. No. Calm down. Throwing a tantrum like a child benefits no one, least of all me. I take a deep breath, crushing all the rage and despair into a ball and shoving it away from my mind. It doesn't quite work. I can't control the way I feel. But it's enough to let me control the way I act.

"…I understand, sir," I respond. "I'll head that way immediately. Seraphim out."

I shut the radio off and toss it back to In-Joke, who catches it with a smile.

"I did warn you," they say.

"It… it's just so stupid!" I lament, my entire body shuddering, twisting, and shifting more or less randomly as anger boils out of me. "It's so incredibly fucking dumb I can't even comprehend the kind of thought process that could have gotten us here in the first place."

"Sure you can! You know what people are like," In-Joke says, still beaming with joy as they toss the radio off to the side. "It's a combination of paranoia and pride, mostly. Positions of power don't naturally select for competency. They naturally select for how good you are at getting positions of power, which is notably a completely different skill set from any actual responsibility ever."

"I know. I know!" I groan. "But this should be everything they could ever want! Imagine being the commander that negotiated the first-ever ceasefire with an unknown, historically superior enemy! They'd be known as a hero until the end of fucking time!"

"A good point, but imagine you're the moron who tried to negotiate with a historically omnicidal force and predictably got your ass handed to you," In-Joke counters. "Not to mention the high odds that this Seraphim character is straight-up insane. It really is more common than you'd think. Even Agnus Dei is secretly a total kook. The brass are pretty used to not listening to anything wing rippers say."

"Why?" I groan. "Why do I always have to do everything? Why is no one else even remotely fucking competent? Why does no one listen to me!?"

"Eh, it probably doesn't help that you present as a gay black girl, if we're being extra real," In-Joke shrugs. "But overall it's just how the world is. The question therefore becomes… what are you going to do about it? Gonna head back to Fort Moore like a good little weapon? Or are you gonna stop pussyfooting around and finally take shit into your own tentacles?"

I glance over at them, the manic glint in their eyes immediately putting me on edge.

"…Why are you here, In-Joke?" I ask.

"Same reason as our last tea party, Jules," they answer. "I'm here to help."

My mind spins, trying to figure out a course of action and rapidly settling on an inevitable conclusion.

"I can't follow orders anymore," I say. "I can't just head off to a completely different city in the middle of all this. At minimum, I have to be here to protect Maria. I shouldn't even be here talking to you, I need to go find her now."

"Oh, that?" In-Joke asks. "Nah, you're good for now. You convinced the aliens not to go on the offensive and left Ana with an obscene amount of blood after recontextualizing her entire power for her. That girl can bodyguard your crush at least until this whole fiasco passes. Not to say there won't be dangers in the next few weeks, especially if she's part of the military's planned offensive, but it's not happening today."

"…I don't see why I should take your word for that," I say.

"Come on, Jules," In-Joke sighs. "Don't be the same irrational mind you just got mad about. I've shown you how powerful I am. I'll admit I can be… a little unstable, sometimes. But I wouldn't lie to you. Not about this."

"Hmm," I frown noncommittally.

"Look, seriously. You can make your own choice about this. I'm just giving you the relevant information."

"Why?" I ask. "What do you want, In-Joke?"

They sigh, glancing back to the table they were sitting on. It still has the kettle on it, waiting.

"Can we sit down?" they ask. "This might take a bit."

"I still don't have the time," I say. "Even if Maria will be okay, who knows how many people are currently trapped under rubble."

"Why not just ask your new friend to help them?" In-Joke asks. "It's not like she doesn't know where they are."

What? I… oh. Oh!

"Omnipresence as Worship?" I ask.

The world around me shudders as the massive domain suffusing the air begins to enact its will on the world. The ground beneath me and the rubble around me start to twist, bending upwards as if reaching into the sky. It stretches farther and farther until somewhere along the line the growth ceases to be part of the original material and instead becomes one of the countless fruit-rich vines of the Queen. The fleshy tendrils rise all around me, the closest winding up around my legs and snugly hugging my waist. It starts to thicken, the end bulging into a massive, sagging orb, which this close I can see is covered with sensory organs—eyes, ears, olfactory centers and so much more. They twist my way, staring through me.

"Greetings, Thief of Torn Wings."
"Greetings, Thief of Torn Wings."
"Greetings, Thief of Torn Wings."

"Are you currently busy?" I ask.

"We have not reached the upper limit of our capacity for tasks."
"We have not reached the upper limit of our capacity for tasks."
"We have not reached the upper limit of our capacity for tasks."

"I have a request, then."

"Speak it."
"Speak it."
"Speak it."

"Many of my people are trapped underneath collapsed structures, and are otherwise damaged or indisposed due to your descent. Would it be possible for you to locate them and help them get somewhere safe?"

"We would be happy to."
"We would be happy to."
"We would be happy to."

Really? Just like that?

"Thank you, Omnipresence as Worship."

"Death depletes the Legion. Life is worship."
"Death depletes the Legion. Life is worship."
"Death depletes the Legion. Life is worship."

I sigh with relief. Well, there's someone being reasonable, anyway. Of course it's the fucking alien invaders.

"And a life lost is a Possibility lost," I breathe in answer.

"It is just so."
"It is just so."
"It is just so."

I hug the tentacle in thanks, shifting out of its grasp… and then soon after, the rubble starts to rumble down the street, something pushing it to the sides as a panicking human is wrapped up, lifted into the air, and deposited gently onto the ground.

"Come on," In-Joke says, motioning towards the table with their head. "I bet you're exhausted. A little break isn't going to kill you."

"I… fine," I sigh, following them over to the porch and plopping down in the seat across from them. I go ahead and pour myself a cup of tea, taking a sip. It's still really good, but…

"It's not hot anymore," I point out.

"Oh ye of little faith," In-Joke says, reaching around a chunk of rubble and pulling out a second kettle, this one piping hot.

"Literally how," I squint, letting them pour me a new cup.

"Preparation," they answer. "Eighty percent of looking super competent and mysterious is to just have contingencies. Maybe I've tried to do this 'wait for you' trick in a dozen different places before actually running into you. You don't know. If I fail, it's only ever in ways you don't get to see."

"Huh," I say. "That makes sense."

"Of course, that was purely explanatory. I've only ever gotten it right perfectly every time," they grin, taking a sip of tea. "Ooh! Still a little too hot."

It tastes fine to me. It burns my tongue a bit, but kind of like spicy food the pain only adds to the flavor. Nearly every kind of physical sensation has muddied out into the same category for me, not even counting all the extra senses I sometimes have and sometimes don't.

"Well, I guess you've earned yourself a little trust," I allow. "But you haven't answered my question yet. What do you want, In-Joke?"

"Ultimately?" they hum. "The same as you. I want to save the world. I do happen to live here, after all, and like lesser precogs I've seen the end of it. Not fun. Zero out of ten, would not die to again. Y'know, hopefully."

"Okay," I frown. "Well, you mentioned it's the being in the moon that ultimately kills us. You called it the 'Grand Queen,' but… what about the God of Nothing? Where does it fit into all this?"

"The Grand Queen is the most powerful of all the aliens, if the name didn't tip you off," In-Joke answers. "She is, somehow, blessed by all of the gods. No idea how that works, since nobody else I've ever heard of has managed more than one. But of course, there's one major exception: the God of Nothing. Even the Grand Queen has nothing from Nothing. But Nothing is the strongest of them all. The other gods are nearly helpless against it."

"Which is how it keeps pulling them to Earth?" I ask.

"Exactly," In-Joke confirms, pointing at me to emphasize. "Why is it doing this? Fuck if I know. Maybe there is no reason. It's the God of Nothing, after all. But the other gods are caught in its clutches, and somehow they can't escape. This fucker is literally reaching through spacetime to make 'em fall out of their rapidly-collapsing homes. There's nothing the aliens can do about it. Maybe nothing we can do about it. It's probably better to focus on the Grand Queen."

"And you think I'm important to dealing with her," I answer.

"I think cooperation is important to dealing with her, so yeah, the only living interspecies translator is pretty important," they say. "It took me a bit to collect my thoughts on everything and come up with a plan—having the future beamed into your head by a deity is a bit of a rattling experience, let me tell you—but I think I officially have my cards chosen and my chips on the table. All that's left to do is wait for the flop."

"Can't say I love the use of gambling metaphors when we're talking about the fate of the world," I say.

"Sorry Jules, I'm the best there is, and it's the best I've got," In-Joke shrugs. "When is the fate of the world ever a sure thing? But if you prefer a more skill-based metaphor, my pieces and pawns are all in place. Everything's gone to plan so far. Ever hear that old Spielmann quote? Y'know, the chess guy. You're oh-so-smart. You know chess guys."

"Uh…"

"'Play the opening like a book, the middle game like a magician, and the endgame like a machine,'" In-Joke quotes. "I've run out of book moves, Jules. It's time for the magic. And I like to play with my Queen front and center."

"What… what the hell are you talking about?" I demand. "Quit with the metaphors and just tell me what you plan to do to save the world!"

"Well that depends," In-Joke hums. "Are you prepared to do everything I say, the instant I say it, without question or doubt?"

"What?" I ask. "No!"

"Yeah, why would you be?" In-Joke shrugs. "It's only what you wish everyone else would do for you. But nobody is quite so considerate, so we have to manipulate people into doing what we want, don't we? You've taught me a lot about that."

I'm suddenly not liking the energy of this tea party anymore. I stand up, glancing around as if to look for some kind of ambush I know isn't there.

What I actually spot is an orange light, flying towards me at high speeds.

"J—Seraphim!" Orange-Maria shouts at me. "Oh my god, I finally found you. You have to help!"

No. Nonononono.

"You said she'd be fine!" I hiss at In-Joke.

"Yeah, well, remember the part of this conversation where I said I wouldn't lie to you about something like that?" they ask, their awful smile widening further. "I lied."

"You—" I try to say, but In-Joke cuts me off with a sudden bout of hysterical laughter.

"Seriously, Jules, I outright admitted that I'd use these talks to distract you the first time we had one. God, do you have any idea how much work it was setting all of this up? I had to make an entire fucking underground draft dodging team to get your ass out here at the right time. It was such a pain!"

"I am going to kill you!" I threaten.

"Probably!" In-Joke agrees happily, their absurd domain pressing up against mine as a reminder of our difference in power. "But do you really have time for that right now?"

I glance at Orange, taking in the panicked expression on her face and making my decision.

"…Show me the way," I tell her.

"R-Right!"

She starts flying back in the direction she came, and I leap up into the air, catching up to her as quickly as I can. Behind me, In-Joke stares at us fondly, dumping their teacup into the rubble.

"God," they say. "I really do hate you."