A/N: I did it. I wrote a chapter. This is about the time of the week you should expect AYEH chapters from now on; I'm trying a slight adjustment to my schedule in hopes that it'll make things easier for me to stay consistent. Also I think this week was supposed to be break week or something? But like. I've been taking too many breaks so fuck that. Uhhhh. Enjoy!

I'm a cat.

Huh? What? Oh… yeah. I'm a cat right now. Gosh, I'm sleepy… yet I also feel like I slept really well. I wanna just stay curled up here… curled up? Oh yeah, I'm a cat.

It's easy to tell that I'm a cat. I'm sleepy, so I twitch my tail when I start thinking too hard. The whiskers on my face are a huge reminder, though; they're very sensitive, and relatively unique as far as facial sensory organs go. I kinda like them, though they aren't useful at all for someone with a humanoid body plan. Cats need them because they walk head-first everywhere they go, and they're often investigating small spaces and crawling around in tight areas. Whiskers help us feel out our surroundings, giving me a pretty exact idea of how close any given obstacle is to my head. It's very handy for not bonking into stuff in the dark.

My tail twitches. I really ought to stop thinking and get back to sleep.

…

It's so warm and nice here. The ground I'm lying on is very soft. A mattress, probably? It'd be several years old by now, lying unattended in the ruins of Dallas, but Christine can and almost certainly did make sure it was as clean as can be before anyone slept on it. My back is warm, too. I'm curled up against another person. Maria, according to my domain. That's nice. I love her. It's safe here. Back to sleep.

…

"Julietta?"

That's my name. I like my name.

"Hey, Julietta? Are you not in the network right now…?"

I yawn. Of course I'm not in the network right now. I'm a cat. Cats aren't aliens. An annoying human pokes me in the nose.

"Gosh, look at you. At least shapeshift a little; you're making me worried I lost you and accidentally went to bed with a stray cat."

She pokes my nose again, so I grow a splash of formless flesh to wrap around her finger and give it an irritated squeeze. She laughs. Maria's laugh… it's nice.

"I can't really blame you for being dead tired after all of that, but it's still a little sad that you spend weeks in there and then the first thing you do when I get to see you again is pass out."

Mrrgh… that's fair. I want to hang out with Maria, too. I'm just so cozy, though… I shift myself some parrot vocal cords so I can talk without needing to move much.

"Warm cuddles," I point out.

"The kitty cuddles were nice," Maria admits, and I can both hear the smile in her voice and feel it with my power. "Ana's apparently almost ready to come out, though. We should get ready."

Oh. That gets me to lift my head.

"Already?" I ask.

"Sweetheart, you were asleep for over eighteen hours," Maria says.

"Still!" I say. "I hope the Queen isn't rushing anything…"

I stand up and stretch, arching my back and letting my fur poof out a bit before settling down and shapeshifting back into a humanoid form. I take my time stretching out my limbs and thickening my bones, enjoying the feeling of my rippling skin as my fur retracts and my body becomes smooth. Yawning as my face returns to its usual shape, I do one last stretch before getting off my hands and knees and standing up. That was a really good sleep. Hmm… why are all the blood vessels on Maria's face swollen? She stopped looking at me. Oh, right. I shapeshift myself some more so it looks like I have clothes on. 

"Sorry," I say sheepishly. "I'm decent now."

"I mean, I wasn't complaining," Maria says, though her embarrassment causes her voice to waver. "Your body is… very cool."

"Thanks, yours is too," I tell her. "I'm particularly fond of the way your fins can fold in and out to hide themselves. It's a neat little puzzle of a structure. I bet my Queen had a lot of fun designing it."

She lets out a sputtering laugh.

"I'm not sure what I expected," she says, mostly to herself. "You are such a dork."

What? Oh! Right. 

"You're also very pretty," I assure her.

"Thank you, Julietta," she says, and though my words put a big smile on her face it feels like she's more amused by my compliment than directly appreciative. Well, either way works, I guess. As long as she's happy, that's what matters.

"Well, uh, shall we head over to see Anastasia, then?" I ask.

"Just one more thing first," Maria says.

She steps forward and puts a hand under my chin, tilting my head up. A burst of colors appears around her head, and a half-dozen Marias all converge on me at once. With her hand guiding me, her main body and I lock lips as the rest swarm my face, showering my cheeks and forehead with tiny kisses of their own. The tendrils that make up her hair mix with mine, letting us wrap around each other and hold each other in a dozen ways at once. And then, barely a couple seconds later, they all pull away, hair and lips and all, leaving me completely stunned.

"Okay. Now we can go," Maria declares, all of her bodies giving me slight variations on the same mischievous grin. The only thing I can do is stare at them. My always-racing thoughts are barely managing to sputter and spark like a broken lighter.

A small weight settles on top of my head as dark, crab-like legs that radiate warmth clamp around my skull. Infrared, her fairy form still taking the appearance of Maria's demonic self, has apparently decided to become my hat. Oh yeah, I still need to reconnect to the network.

"Affection. Love. Joy. Affection. Contentment."

A-ah. Yeah. Okay. For some reason, there's part of me that wants to cry, but I manually hold it back like usual. It's silly, anyway. I am feeling great this morning. 

"Alright," I say. "Let's go, then."

I hold out my arm and Maria loops her elbow around mine, the two of us squeezing each other close as we walk out of the little abandoned house Maria found for us to rest in and head down the street towards the main body of the Queen. The network is vibrant today, the whole colony rumbling with anticipation at meeting their new council member. Peter and Blossom are chatting with various Angels, and when Maria sends our itinerary (as is polite) they send us excited greetings.

"Query designation: Twisting Scars Reshape Fate. You are awake?"

"Affirmative," I answer. "Reporting optimal status."

"Joy!"

"Agreement."

"A Prism of Refracting Selves has reported enjoying much pleasure while you were still gathering yourself," Blossom teases. "Humans get to have all the fun."

A-ah, right, there's… not really any privacy for us now, given the network link. I hope that doesn't end up being a problem now that Ana will be part of it… though I suppose there are still several ways to get privacy if we need it. Oh, Maria's blushing again.

"You're much more physical than usual today!" Maria protests. "And thinking about stuff like that…"

"I am in a very good mood," I admit. "If everything goes well, something I've been wanting for a long time will finally happen."

Anastasia will finally be free to live without pain. Her power won't hurt her anymore. She'll never have a normal life, that was robbed from her the moment the Chicago Queen dropped, but that doesn't mean we can't fight for every possible improvement. And we did fight! And now, we're going to win! 

"We are nearly ready," the Queen reports. "You warned us that she would be young, but she is surprisingly… fussy."

"Thank you, Equality is Impenetrable," I say. "Your patience and love is appreciated."

"Of course," the Queen says. "She has not made herself difficult to love."

She certainly hasn't.

"She!? Clarification requested: she?" A Mirror Always Reciprocates chimes in excitedly. "Is this confirmation that we have found our Princess?"

"Affirmative," the Queen reports, to the vibrant cheers of the entire colony. "There can be no doubt as to Reciprocation's love, nor our new council member's strength."

The colony erupts with joy. It's more than a little overwhelming to be honest, and I instinctively start to pull back from the network, but… a glance at Maria is all it takes to see her smiling as she lets herself experience it all. If she can, I should too. I do my best not to flinch as I force myself to stare into happiness. 

It's not so bad.

"Hey, how come I don't get to be my colony's Princess?" Peter asks. "It feels like everyone's a Princess but me. I'm so left out!"

"Consideration. You have the right kind of power for it," Blossom comments. "If you wished to obtain the position, it may be possible. I can only imagine your qualifications are currently lacking due to insufficient connection with Perfection."

"Unfortunate. Jesting statement: must have scared the big guy off. Probably worried I'll take his job," Peter says. "Jesting statement: that wasn't a jesting statement. Anger! Anger! It's not funny if I'm always forced to explain the joke!"

"Amusement! I believe in you, Confidence is Apotheosis," Maria giggles. "You will find some new way to be insufferable over the network before long."

"Thank you, Rainbow Ride! At least someone here respects me."

"Amazement. Irritation. That didn't take you long at all," Maria says.

"That's not a new method, that's just his old method but worse," I point out.

"Unknown designation: 'Rainbow Ride,'" nearly every single Angel reports.

"Frustration!" Peter laments.

The various good-natured ribbings come to a halt after that, though, as the Queen sends an alert that she's ready to open up and present her Princess. The colony goes silent, each of us waiting with bated breath. Is she really going to be okay? Is she going to adapt to the network alright? Is she going to be happy?

"Now presenting our newest councilmember: Blood Returns Wrath and Love!" the Queen announces.

"I'm cold! I'm still all wet! Everything is so goopy! This is weird. None of this is like how I imagined becoming a princess. I'm supposed to have a fortified structure and a large flying warrior that breathes fire and a really pointy hat with streamers coming off of it and wait why can't I say large flying warrior that breathes fire that's lame I can't believe aliens don't even have large flying warriors that breathe fire every princess should be able to kidnap one."

"Is she trying to say 'dragon?'" Maria asks quietly.

"Probably," I whisper back.

"Does she think that the princesses kidnap the dragons…?"

"Well, if she's the princess they certainly do," I answer. "I wouldn't bet on a dragon against her."

"You should walk outside and introduce yourself, Blood Returns Wrath and Love," the Queen suggests.

"I don't want to! You called me fussy! You wouldn't even give me any lasers! Twisting Scars Reshape Fate is way better at making new bodies than you!"

"You realize that I can't give you lasers either, right?" I can't help but ask. "There are no biological structures I'm aware of that produce lasers. Also, hi. I love you."

"Julietta!" Anastasia's voice rings out from within the Queen, and moments later she's rushing outside, bursting into view.

Her smile is all I need to see to know she's alright.

"Julietta, that was you, right!?" she asks, looking around. "I heard you in my brain!"

"Over here, Ana!" I call out, waving at her and delighting in the rush of joy she sends over the network when she spots me.

She starts running at me, leaping down from high enough that my heart skips a beat. Yet from her back, two nearly skeletal limbs pop out on either side. Long and thin, they look almost like inhuman arms with fingers even longer than the arms themselves, strange and out of place yet strikingly familiar in a way that I can't quite place until blood starts pouring from their undersides, filling in the gaps between the 'fingers' and forming a remarkably accurate copy of a bat's wings. They're far too small to produce the sort of lift necessary to fly were she to try flapping them, but she doesn't need to. Anastasia, after all, is a hemokinetic, and it's more than enough to just have the blood outside her body, wrapping around her new wings, and holding her aloft with the strength of her power alone.

She is, unfortunately, still an excited little kid who doesn't have much experience doing this sort of thing yet, so she crashes into me with altogether way too much speed and I have to cushion her fall like the crumple zone of a car. Thankfully, I think she's too excited to hear all of my bones break before I subtly fix them all.

"Sorry! You're okay though, right?"

Oh yeah, she can hear what I'm thinking. Which is the real reason she's not that worried, because she can tell I am ecstatic.

Now that she's close and our domains are intermingled, I can work out all the neat little ways her new body works, and sure enough, Reciprocation has upheld its end of the bargain. Ana's wings can open direct paths to her bloodstream and let blood out of her body through a series of small pores without causing any pain whatsoever. We've also clearly resolved the issue of needing to cut her hair, because like Maria, she has opted to replace it with my favored setup of tentacles. Hers are longer than Maria's and mine both, lacking any of the chromatophores that we use to change our color and instead each being jet-black like her hair used to be. Together, they hang down her back, pressing close enough to each other that they look like a single continuous mass at a glance. They're the same length as her old hair, down well past her waist, where they almost manage to hide a familiar striped tail.

Overall, she looks very similar to how she used to look at a glance, barring the striped tiger tail and the set of stripes centered around her belly and thighs that continue its pattern. Yet despite all the similarities, almost every part of her has been upgraded in at least some small way. Her claws can retract in and out of her fingers, pulling back to be completely unobtrusive or extending a couple centimeters longer than they used to be, whichever she happens to be in the mood for at the time. Her pale skin is tougher than it was before, durable enough that she never has to worry about accidentally scratching herself—an even better advantage now that she never has to do it on purpose, either. She's stronger, tougher, faster, and even has a cute little pair of vampire fangs for what I hope are entirely aesthetic reasons.

"I will bite anyone who is mean to me ever!" Anastasia declares excitedly.

"Please use your words first, Blood Returns Wrath and Love," I request.

"Her name is not Polite Conversation Returns Wrath and Love," Blossom points out. "Proper greetings, little one."

"A Blossom of Wilted Chances! Hi! Oh good, you aren't going to betray us. I was worried," Anastasia says.

"Understandable," Blossom nods. "Betraying you would be really funny."

"Uncontested agreement!" Peter declares. "Let's ditch these losers and go make our own united front against the apocalypse with games of chance and Bliss colonies. Actually, forget the united front against the apocalypse! And the games of chance!"

"If only you had propositioned me a few hours ago. Unfortunately, we missed our window. Twisting Scars Reshape Fate would unmake me if I pleasured you while the young one was awake," Blossom says.

"Shock. Intimidation," Peter manages.

"Amusement. Affection. Now who is a loser?" Blossom grins.

"I can hear you, you know! I know you're being gross!" Anastasia accuses. "It's so weird that I can hear you! Everybody's talking at the same time but I can hear everybody and kind of understand everybody and it's a lot but it's not as much as I thought it would be even though it's more than I thought it would be but it's not so bad?"

Her tail flicks excitedly behind her, peeking out from between her mass of tentacles which remain comparatively very still, just hanging straight down like her hair used to. They spring to life when I reach out to brush them, though, wrapping around my hand and giving it a delighted squeeze.

"Amusement! Glee! I have so many extra thingies now! I have wings and I have a tail and my hair is cool like yours and it's weird but I like it!"

"Relief! Joy!" I respond. "I'm so glad."

"Princess," an Angel reaches out. "This unit's designation is Two Souls Balanced are Divine. I send you greetings."

"This unit's designation is Suffering Shared Is Joy. I send you greetings."

"This unit's designation is A Mirror Always Reciprocates. I send you greetings."

"…Oh, right," Ana says hesitantly. "My councillors."

"Council members," I correct. 

"Yeah," Ana brushes me off nervously. "Hesitance. Greetings."

"Hesitance. Curiosity," the Angels send back.

"People like you killed my whole family," Ana says. 

"We will help you destroy them," the Angels respond.

"No," Anastasia insists.

"Confusion. They hurt you. We will hurt them."

"I already hurt them," Anastasia says. "And Twisting Scars Reshape Fate killed a member of their family, too."

"One is not enough," the Reciprocation colony insists. "Not if you lost all of yours."

"No," Anastasia says again. "I'm going to try to forgive them. Someone I love will become part of their colony soon."

Rumbles of discontent hum throughout the colony. This was their Princess?

"Forgiveness is not reciprocal," the colony insists. "Those who do you wrong must be punished."

"No!" Ana insists. "It IS reciprocal! Evil is punished. Good is rewarded. That's the way things are supposed to be! So what am I supposed to do when I get forgiven even though I'M evil?"

Anastasia, no! I and her entire colony flood her with disagreement, but she just breaks free from my arms and flies back up into the sky.

"You're all STUPID!" she screams. "My friends think I'm good but I'm NOT! I let everybody die because I was dumb. It was MY fault even though everyone says it's not because they're all wrong! I tried to wash their blood away with mine but it doesn't work like that. That's not right. That's not justice. That's what Twisting Scars Reshape Fate taught me. You be GOOD to bad people. Because if you're good enough, even bad people can become good themselves someday. And THAT'S Reciprocation. You don't have to reciprocate to them if you can get them to reciprocate with you. You can transform someone who's wrong into someone who's right. And then, both of you can help each other."

It's a child's logic, and I have many objections to it, foremost of which is Ana's continued insistence that she is a bad person despite all evidence to the contrary. Her colony, too, finds it difficult to agree. Getting other people to reciprocate with you rather than the other way around is needlessly backwards; they, after all, are the chosen of Reciprocation. It is their job, their duty, to reciprocate. It's not about long-term plotting to create reciprocation in the future, it's about responding in kind in the moment. Answering anger with anger, flesh with flesh, and blessings with blessings.

"If it's about what they do in the moment," Blossom suggests, "why not wait and see? When this colony struck at your Princess, your Princess struck back. The scales may not be perfectly even, but they are immeasurable. What debts you will choose to consider settled are up to you. So why not settle this one, and then when we find this colony again, determine your response accordingly? If they make peace with your Princess, make peace with them in turn. But if they insist on war, we will band together to destroy them. Would this not satisfy?"

"Typical of a Chosen of Possibility to recommend we wait and see," Suffering Shared Is Joy huffs. "But I will concede there is some wisdom to this."

"No! You're all stupid!" Ana insists. "I should be nice to people because people were nice to me."

"You should be kind to people that were kind to you, yes," Two Souls Balanced are Divine says, "but not to unrelated people, and certainly not people who were cruel to you."

"But they weren't cruel," Ana says. "They didn't know they were hurting me. They didn't even know my family was real. That's what Twisting Scars Reshape Fate says. They were all just stupid, like you, and they made a mistake and did the wrong thing and we don't really KNOW if that means they're good or bad. Doing bad things doesn't mean you can't be good someday."

"One can simply reciprocate good or bad actions in kind without needing to know if the actor is intrinsically good or bad in some way," A Mirror Always Reciprocates says. "So why would intrinsic goodness matter?"

"Why WOULDN'T it matter?" Ana pouts. "Annoyance! Annoyance! Aren't I the Princess? Shouldn't you listen to me?"

This is getting nowhere fast. I have to figure out how to reframe things here.

"What if," I try, thinking out loud out of alien-ingrained habit more than anything else, "you consider it as not reciprocating the actions of a specific individual, but instead reciprocating the actions of the world as a whole?"

"How would one ever judge the entirety of a world's actions?"

"The same way any action is judged," I answer. "Entirely arbitrarily. If someone breaks your leg, how do you reciprocate? Do you break their leg in return? What if they have a task that requires more use of their leg than yours? Is your reciprocation duly proportional? What if they can fly, and you cannot? Do you break a wing instead? Or if they have no legs at all, what part of them do you injure to enact your response? The answers to all of these questions are broad in scope. There are several answers that would each please Reciprocation equally. So therefore, would it not be reasonable to assume your Princess understands something that pleases Reciprocation greatly, even if it makes little sense to you?"

"Yeah!" Ana chimes in. "I'm smart! You should listen."

"Don't brag, Blood Returns Wrath and Love," I chide. "Explain. Educate."

"Regret. Hesitance. Agreement. I…"

She pauses for a moment, words temporarily lost in place of feelings. At the core of her, Anastasia is… torn. There is a part of her that is happy. Truly, deeply happy. She loves us, she loves that we're here for her, she loves to be useful to us and she loves how much she's able to help us. But the other part of her, the part that still won't go away, insists that she doesn't deserve it. That there's no good reason she gets to be happy while the rest of her family died. She loved her family so much, and getting a new family so soon after losing the old one feels wrong no matter how desperately she needed it. She doesn't deserve the good things that have happened to her. So why did they happen anyway?

"I was… lucky," Anastasia says. "How do I reciprocate that? How do I return what random chance has given me? How does anybody? If a person hurts you, you can hurt them back. But what if an earthquake hurts you? What if something hurts you that isn't anybody's fault at all? What if something helps you that you never had any control over? Or what if something helps you and hurts you at the same time? How… how do I reciprocate the kindness Reciprocation itself has allowed me to have, when at the same time that kindness was denied to everyone I cared about? Do I do good things for Reciprocation, or do I do bad ones?"

"You do what you can," Equality is Impenetrable says. "You respond as directly as you're able."

"Well, Twisting Scars Reshape Fate has done nothing but good things for me," Anastasia says. "And so has A Prism of Refracting Selves, and all the people here whose names I can't say with my brain, and even Confidence is Apotheosis a little bit! So what do I do when all these people who have been good to me ask me to be good to someone who's mean? To someone who hurt me? Do I be good to the good people, or do I be bad to the bad people? I have to choose."

The colony ripples with discontent, not liking that particular conundrum at all. To them, after all, it is good to reciprocate and bad to not. The question is a frustrating paradox that borders on the nonsensical, like the collision of an unstoppable force and an immovable object. But Ana has a simple enough answer.

"I do the good thing," Ana says, "because I want to be good and not bad. And I hope all of you want that, too."

Again, it's the logic of a child. But sometimes, that makes it more compelling rather than less.

"Plus, if you want to be evil, I'll wanna be evil right back at you! And I'll beat you up because I'm super strong. Anybody who wants to be evil isn't my friend."

Their Princess' decree so declared, the colony descends into quiet philosophical discussion. As abrasive as Ana's declaration was, I don't think there's too much to worry about. Everyone can feel that she's young, scared, hurt, and in desperate need of people to help her. And likewise, they can all tell that we have been those people. We've brought their Princess to this point, we've empowered her with the ability to make this speech at all, and whether they agree with Ana or not, we are owed. The only thing I need to focus on from here on out is spending time with Ana and helping her adjust to her new body. The rest of the day is mostly just me doing that.

"And once we're finally done here, I'll be next," Emily comments as we all sit around an intact dinner table, cracking open cans of preserved food to eat cold like the good old days of horrific incursion survival tactics. 

"Not looking forward to that, I take it?" I ask.

"It's weird," Anastasia says, tugging at the back of her newly-refitted shirt. Hmm. Bigger holes for her wings, maybe?

"We can adjust things if they don't feel right," I offer.

"No, having wings is cool," Ana says. "I like it. It's just weird. I keep forgetting they're there, and then when I remember they're the only thing I can think about."

"Do you not want wings, Emily?" Christine prods.

"I mean… flying would be cool, but her wings only work because of her powers," Emily points out. "I don't have powers that would help me with flying."

"It would require pretty substantial shifts to the human body plan, but it's not impossible," I say. "I've flown that way before, it's just a bit awkward."

"Sure, okay," Emily says. "But that's not really the point. My powers suck. I'm not looking forward to chatting with a bunch of assholes who worship the source of them. Blossom has told me a few horror stories about her old colony, and I just… ugh. It's going to be miserable."

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," I say.

"Yes we do," Emily mutters quietly.

"What?" I ask. "No, we really don't. I'm not going to force you to give up your entire body if it's not something you want to do, that would be horrific."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm definitely the one forcing myself," Emily grumbles. "It's the right thing to do, both in terms of getting your plan to work and in terms of what my power wants. It's just… I mean, if one of these things is going to go wrong, it's gonna be mine, right? I'm literally blessed by the god of fucking Failure." 

"If your power says it's the right thing to do, doesn't that mean you're going to be fine?" Christine asks.

"It means I'm going to be alive," Emily corrects. "And it means I'm going to be likely to remain alive. But if there's one thing Julietta has been trying to get through my skull, it's that alive and fine are not at all the same thing."

"Again, we really don't have to do this," I insist. "Those are totally valid fears. I doubt we actually need a Failure colony, specifically. Just getting as many colonies together as we already have will be a force the U.S. military can't easily dismiss."

"No," Blossom suddenly says, swallowing a spoonful of cold ravioli down her throat before speaking again. "You need them."

"I'm… surprised to hear you, of all people, say that," I admit. "Is there something important about Failure we don't know?"

"Not really," Blossom says.

"Why do we need them, then?" I ask.

"We do not," she answers. "You do. Specifically you."

"Blossom, is this about your theory?" Maria asks. "I really don't think—"

"I'm right," Blossom insists. "You wrong. Hush."

"No, I will not 'hush!'" Maria insists. "Why are you being so secretive about this? You shouldn't be secretive about anything!"

Blossom snorts.

"Not having lies no mean bad at subterfuge," she insists. "Julietta not like it if you tell her."

"Tell me what?" I ask. "Sorry, I was tuning out the network a bit again."

I'm about to tune back in before Emily suddenly speaks up again.

"Oh, fuck," she hisses. "Blossom is right. Don't tell her."

Uh. Hmm. Okay, I won't pry, then. At least not until I have a better understanding of what's going on. 

"Are you serious?" Maria asks. "Do you even know what we're talking about?"

"No, but I don't need to know," Emily insists.

"I know what you're talking about," Peter butts in. "And as ridiculous as it sounds, I agree with Blossom. On the off chance she's right, we shouldn't tell her."

"I'm right here," I point out. "You could at least explain why you don't want to explain. Is there some infohazard power I don't know about, or something?"

"No," Maria dismisses, causing Emily to flinch. "Blossom is just overreacting."

"I am not," Blossom insists. "You just not want it to be true."

"Julietta has enough of a martyr complex already!" Maria snaps. "The last thing she needs is even more responsibility put on her!"

"Uh, guys?" Christine says. "I don't really know what's going on here either, but I think we should at least shut the fuck up because Emily told us to, right? We can discuss this elsewhere."

"Never mind," Emily waves off. "It's too late. She's probably just going to figure it out herself, now."

"I barely said anything!" Maria protests.

Well, she did cut off several possibilities and lay down some big hints. It's not a nasty power I need to avoid knowledge of, and it's related to my apparent 'martyr complex.' It necessitates my meeting with a colony of Failure, and it's almost certainly related to whatever Blossom wanted to keep from me right after I got out from Equality is Impenetrable's womb. What did I say that might have freaked her out? Hmm… well, there's one obvious stand-out choice.

"Was it the conversation I had with Reciprocation that brought this on?" I ask.

"Obviously," Blossom groans. "That not normal, Julietta! Not normal even small bit!"

"It's the literal concept of Reciprocation, though. I wanted to talk to it, so it wanted to talk to me," I say. "Kind of an obvious loophole, sure, but it's a special case."

"Of course that obvious. You think no one try that before?" Blossom grumbles. "Lots people want talk to gods. Few people actually do. Talking to two gods? Not happen. Not happen ever. Except one time."

Only once, huh? I figured it would have been more than that. I mean, the Grand Queen supposedly was blessed by every god, and she's a Queen so she probably talks to… them…

No. No, that can't be what she's saying, right? That's ridiculous.

"We on quest to destroy Grand Queen!" Blossom hisses. "The most favorite! The most loved! Yet we have support of gods in this quest. Why?"

"You think I've been chosen to replace her?" I ask. "Blossom, I don't even like most of the gods!"

"Not necessary," Blossom says. "Emily no like Failure. Only matters that god likes you. And you already beloved by Blasphemy before even meet us, yes?"

"The Queen said that, sure, but it's not like I heard that from Blasphemy directly," I protest.

"Yes, good point!" Blossom says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Would really been big sign if you started talking to gods directly!"

"I… okay, I walked into that one, but there has to be another possible explanation for this," I say. "Maybe Reciprocation intervened because I was speaking on Ana's behalf rather than my own."

"Anything possible," Blossom dismisses rotely. "Possible not usually mean likely. Possibility like made-up what-ifs, but it not ask me ignore reality for them."

"It could be a cultural difference," I insist. "It's expected for young humans to have their guardians speak for them and advocate on their behalf. That isn't really a thing in alien culture, but the gods have probably figured out at least a little about how humans work by now."

"It is said," Blossom answers solemnly, "that Grand Queen traveled to many colonies before became center of the stars. For to make the single most high, the approval of all gods needed. Some gods approved from start, for the Grand Queen was already beloved by them. But others had to be convinced. Possibility, Contradiction, Bliss, Perfection, Legion, and Reciprocation stood with her. But Blasphemy, Division, Silhouette, and Failure all stood against her, for she was pristine and unmarred. For each, she struggled to earn their love, but none could hate her in the end, for she was the most holy of all."

She empties the rest of the can down her throat, shuddering in disgust as she swallows. Then, she stares intensely at me.

"I not know which gods reject you," she says, "but I know there at least four who don't. Possibility, Blasphemy, Reciprocation, and Legion. And if Maria were honest with self, she would know this better than anyone. Her god pushes for you to be the most high."

I turn to Maria, who looks away, radiating an odd mix of confusion and embarrassment. Why did Blossom signal her out? It's not like her to prod people unless it's for some specific purpose, even if that purpose is usually just to tease them. This feels more like her knowing something specific, though. Something that proves her point.

…What is it that Maria said to me back in Denver? That she 'always kinda knows where I am these days?' 

"Hey, Maria?" I ask. "Do me a favor. Stand up and close your eyes."

"Uh, okay?" Maria agrees hesitantly, getting up to do just that.

"Now spin in a circle until you're dizzy," I instruct.

"Okay!?" she says, and starts spinning around. 

I motion at her to Christine, who thankfully picks up on my intention and stands up to catch her if needed. Before long, though, Maria comes to a stop, thoroughly disoriented. I highly doubt she has any idea where anything is anymore.

"Okay," I say. "Now everyone, at the same time, point to the moon. Ready? Three, two, one… now."

I, and nearly everyone else in the room, point up and somewhat to my left. The pull of the Grand Queen is still strong, always tugging lightly at the back of our thoughts. Even mine. Whatever force declares her as important is still plenty strong in all of us. 

Except, of course, for Maria, because her finger is pointing directly at me. Everyone stares at her in silence, waiting for her to slowly open her eyes. Once she does, once she figures out what's going on, she starts to flush beet red, even her chromatophores struggling to keep her color under control with that much blood in her cheeks.

"Oh my god," she squeaks. "You're my new Queen."

"Why, though?" I ask. "How does this work? Blossom would have figured this out if she felt any kind of pull towards me, but no one in our colony was acting like that. Same with all the other Angels we've met on this trip."

"Possibility probably keeping possibilities open," Blossom says. "You a Grand Queen… candidate, or something. Maybe others like you around too. Our god likes you, but is not very decisive. Legion, though? This whole trip, your whole goal, is unite all alien colonies and human nations to work for singular goal. Legion behind you one hundred percent."

"Doesn't that mean anyone blessed by Legion would feel the same pull towards Julietta?" Peter asks.

"Probably," Blossom shrugs.

"So the Army now has several people with built-in Julietta tracking devices," Emily sighs. "Awesome. Thanks, god of cooperation. Real helpful."

"They shouldn't know what it means yet," Christine says. "They don't know what that feeling points to. Once they find out, though… yeah, that's going to make things difficult."

That's not even the part I'm worried about, honestly. Sure, it'll be a huge pain in the ass if everyone with superpowers has a mental compass to my exact location, but all of that pales compared to the terror of becoming the Grand Queen. What does that even entail? What does it mean? The Grand Queen is worshiped by Angels almost as much as their actual gods, but the only thing I know about her is that she's the scary monster in the moon that ends the world. Maria was right, I did not want to know this. Blossom mentioned there might be other candidates though, right? Can't one of them do this instead?

But of course, the moment I think that is the moment it really hits. I don't want this, but it's not about what I want. It never is. I can't afford to risk someone even less qualified than me ending up as the Grand Queen, whatever the hell it means to be one. This is, and needs to be, my responsibility. No one else's.

Fuck. I was really trying to get better at that, too.