World of the dead (239) (Patreon)

The scorched gray wasteland emanated an icy cold air, and even without any wind blowing, the cold penetrated inside the body and sucked out any warmth from it. Worse, even with cold, which should have been refreshing when compared to the hot heat of the above, it did not carry any freshness, as if the air itself was stale, musty, and dusty. The air that belongs in a tomb that hasn’t been opened for generations. It was as if the air itself was dead. Combined with the oppressiveness of the stone ceiling above, that even when it was far away felt like it was pressing on everything below, as spires of stone littered the ground jutting upward like stakes. 

"All that is missing are the neon signs, dead bodies on the sides of the road, oh, and my respirator is missing." Ainz almost even chuckled to himself, continuing to move through the air as he flew through, apparently, the Underworld.

One that is highly reminiscent of his old world… Blue Planet was right, they had indeed been living on a dead rock.

Ainz decided that he would leave that world behind, probably at the same moment when he found himself in this world. A total excising of his world, that he could only dream of when playing Yggdrasil and only experienced when he had his friends. 

But then, even when he was not stranded in another world with no way of returning, what would he be trying to return to?  To endless work? A destroyed home? The absolute emptiness of his meaningless life? 

No, Ainz knew that he would stay here, in this new, strange world full of magic, terrible enemies, and a mission to save humanity even if he had the choice to return this instant. He had known this from the very first second he had found himself in this strange world, being woken up by Mashu. 

Ainz, back then still, Satoru Suzuki… No, Momonga had already chosen to forget about his past world, the ‘real’ world, instead considering that he had come to this world from Yggdrasil, that was the place he considered his true home after all. It was where he felt truly alive, where all the joyful, exciting and memorable events in his life happened.  

That is why, having accepted Yggdrasil as his ‘real’ past, Ainz was able to react so easily and simply to all the incredible things happening around him. Servants, magic, finally, the sea and forests. All this was completely astounding, dizzying for the world in which Satoru Suzuki, a nameless cog of the cruel corporate machine, would feel out of place. 

But, for the mighty lich and necromancer Momonga? It was a matter of course.

Therefore, he managed to so easily accept the fact of all the strange and inexplicably magical things happening to him and around him. And therefore it was all the more unexpected for him to remember his past world now, all because a familiar vista jogged his memory.

And yet, despite it bringing in only bad memories, by a strange coincidence, for some reason this discovery did not bring Ainz any shock or grief. Instead, it made him feel humorous, as he made jokes to the fact the ‘world of the dead’ looked more hospitable than the ‘world of the living’ in his previous life.

To be honest, Ainz was not even sure that his life in the past was not some kind of strange joke, an unexpectedly lingering dream that only seemed realistic to Ainz himself. And that, only to the extent that dreams could seem realistic. 

Day after day spent at work, to continue moving the cogs of a dead world, with no magic in sight…

It was all so gray, boring, and pointless that sometimes Ainz wondered if he had mixed something up in his memory. Had he really once been Satoru Suzuki, or was it all a strange delusion of the lich Momonga, at those moments when he, for some reason, decided to take a break from the world of Yggdrasil?

“Hmmph, as if…”

No, he has not suddenly started confusing his lives, as strange as it is to say something like that.

“Eat to live, or live to eat… I suppose I had lived in the ‘real’ world just for Yggdrasil, which is why I am feeling this disconnect.”

Perhaps it was simply the desolate nature and the lack of a horizon that had gotten him in such an introspective mood. But then what can he do? Even if he disliked thinking about his life as Satoru, it was not like he could use something like a Super-Tier magic like [Creation], just because he wanted something to look at other than the unchanging desolate land.

Though, perhaps, as if answering his prayer, Ainz started noticing something on top of the spire to break the monotony, though it only accentuated the desolate nature of the Underworld. Cages, cages made of metal bars, and judging by their size, one not intended for humans, they were too small to fit them, instead Ainz could see some kind of bluish fire? Inside them. They hung from metal chains from the spires, swinging from the dead cold air that blew dust from the ground.

It only added to the eerie atmosphere of the place, as the sound of swinging chains sounded considerably loud to the otherwise silent Underworld.

It was then when he was looking at the various cages, perhaps expecting something to be found within, that his eyes spotted something remarkably more interesting than the piles of rock or the metal cages.

"A Gate?" Ainz blinked, surprised by the sudden appearance of the incongruous construction in the desolate lands.

The gate were made primarily of some kind of black material with gold writings on them, though perhaps to call them gates is a misnomer, there were no doors after all. They were more like arches, and not even one that blocked Ainz’s way, as he could easily pass over them by flying, or even just walk to the sides, as it was open on either side. 

But then why were they here? It was not like it was made to block something…

“So, a trap? Or a portal?” Looking around the arch, Ainz could not see anything that could tell him of their function, nor could he see anywhere else he was supposed to go. If he was to find his goal, he would need to spring the trap, if there were one, he needs to walk past the arch.

Of course, it was possible that it was just another natural landform, and his path to his goal lies elsewhere… But then, should he spend hours if not days canvasing the large Underworld to find a path that might not exist? When it was also possible that the way forward was already right in front of him?

“Nothing ventured…”

Landing on the ground a few dozen meters in front of the gates, Ainz took a few dozen steps forward, as he started to examine them. After all, Ainz could instantly identify that these gates were filled with magic, but of what type? Would it be a trap? If so, what kind? Would it be poison? Negative Energy? Teleportation perhaps? Or would it summon monsters to attack Ainz?

Ainz was not sure about this at all.

After examining the arches for ten seconds, however, Ainz couldn’t find anything that would answer his questions, and so before doing something as silly as passing through the suspicious arches, he began to fly. After all, there are two ways to pass through an arch, he would be kicking himself if the answer was actually located behind the arch. 

And yet, before he could even fly a centimeter above the ground, a loud, booming voice emanated from the Arch.

"Answer me!" The voice was low and crackling, almost thunderous, reflecting off the walls of the impossibly huge cave of the underworld. "Answer me, the one who stands before the Gates of the Underworld! Answer me, so that your soul can continue to live in the halls of this world!"

Ainz took a few glances around him, trying to determine if there was someone else here besides him, or anything under [Invisibility]. Seeing that, even with as thorough of a check he could make, nothing came up, Ainz could only concede that the voice did come out of the Arch, or the Gate of the Underworld as it calls itself. 

"The sinful soul of…" The voice started speaking and Ainz listened closely so that he wouldn’t miss a single clue or requirements, that was why he was so confused when the voice stopped just as suddenly as it started.

"Huh?" A strange sound escaped from the gates, spreading with a peal of thunder around Ainz, making him blink and look around, checking if it was the sound of the gates opening in front of him. But the gates, apparently, remained unchanged. 

The sound that escaped from them… For a moment, Ainz frowned, it was too strange for the previously pretentious way of speaking as it apparently greeted another soul in the underworld. 

Now, as the speaker seems to suddenly stumble in the middle of a sentence, a thought that only intensified a moment later. 

"Um… Wait a minute… There's some kind of mistake here…"

Under normal circumstances, perhaps such words would only sound somewhat incoherent, perhaps even cute in a sense. But when compared to how the voice had tried to sound grandiose before? Well, calling it incongruent would be very mild. It was like a valedictorian screwing up their graduation speech, but, instead of a teenager messing up their farewell speech, it was a giant stone gate making the mistake.

How could stone even make mistakes, if Ainz were to ignore the fact that a stone gate could speak of course. It was even more ridiculous because the gate had been speaking in its booming voice, even their muffled mumbling to themselves was so loud that it sounded more like a landslide rather than panicked murmuring.

"Um… How could this be…" The voice uttered such phrases panicked again and again, gradually becoming more and more confused, which, when done by a powerful deep voice, was extremely strange.

"Ahem!" After waiting a few seconds where the panicked door, as strange as that might sound, continued panicking, Ainz finally spoke up, loudly clearing his throat.

"Ahhh!" A sharp exclamation spread around Ainz like a blast wave, like the roar of a maddened titan. Despite what could be construed as a sonic attack, Ainz could not see it as any act of aggression, nor the warning cry of a beast that was about to leap to an attack… But rather the panicked exclamation of… Someone.

"Oh, ahem, yes!" The gates responded again, clearing their throat just like Ainz, before trying to regain the regality of their speech again, failing miserably in Ainz’s opinion. 

"O, Soul, you stand before the Gates of the Underworld!"

"Uh-huh," Ainz, quickly losing all the sense of carefulness and bits of awe he had accumulated in front of the gates, simply nodded as an answer. The voice faltered again, probably expecting a different reaction to what it thought of as an awe-inspiring display of power.

"For sure!" The voice said emphatically, as if trying to convince Ainz, after which it tried to take control of the situation again, "Answer me the great question!"

For a moment, Ainz allowed the thought that the question that would follow this might still be some kind of logical puzzle, one that his limited intelligence would be impossible for him to solve. After all, in myths and legends, all riddles and questions are something that is almost impossible to answer. 

But Ainz did not even have time to panic at the thought before hearing a question that was much stranger than any logic puzzle. 

"Which goddess is more beautiful, Ishtar or Ereshkigal?"

***

The eastern wall, towards which Artoria Pendragon, now known in this form as Alturia, was not, strictly speaking, a separate wall, given the fact that the entire kingdom of Gilgamesh was surrounded by this same wall. But this did not prevent it from remaining the destination of Alturia herself, who received a fairly simple order to accomplish, one that Ainz had given. 

Go to the eastern wall, help the Servants guard it and destroy the attacking monsters, and, if possible, gather information about what exactly was happening in this Singularity, or just the local conditions of the area around her. Simple, clear… Completely artless.

It was just the right thing for Alturia, who herself was not sure what else she needed to do in the Singularity, in life, and after her summoning to Chaldea.

If Alturia were Artoria Pendragon, she could have clung to her legendary personality as the king who lived through the cycle of the ‘Arthurian’ legends, killed by Mordred and fighting all her life for the Holy Grail. If Alturia was the Lion Goddess, then Alturia could have taken on the responsibility of maintaining the world balance between magic and reality and become the link between the two parts of reality. 

But what if Alturia was… just herself? What was she supposed to do then?

In the past Singularity, there was a version of King Arthur, locked in an eternal limbo of an unfinished legend, which eventually led to the creation of the Goddess. But in the end, that Singularity was resolved and, although its correction would leave its own scar on Human History, the event itself, the idea of the Goddess, ended with a big fat period… An end where she was supposed to disappear.

But she, Alturia, still remained, She remained the same restless spirit that had once given birth to the Goddess.

Alturia did not complain about it, to exist, she certainly liked it more than to not exist, but the existence of a legendary Servant like her had to be based on something, didn't it? A legend or a real historical fact, it doesn't matter – Servants had a basis for their existence. They are, by their very nature, shaped by their history.

So how should Alturia act… When she doesn’t have one?

Alturia just suddenly appeared one day because her parallel version arose as a result of an error in human history, but then this error was corrected, and yet Alturia remained simply as a funny coincidence in the Throne of Heroes. An Error that was not, and now, could never be corrected.

But still, Alturia stayed. By chance or not, she existed, which means she had to go on living, even if she could not fully understand exactly how she should do it.

The eastern wall, which was gradually growing larger in her view as she approached, now looked daunting as it consumed the entire horizon, allowing Alturia to understand two things. One of these things was completely understandable, explainable, and expected, the wall was huge after all. The second was much less so.

The entire wall in front of her felt like something… Grandiose. Monstrous. Absolutely incredible.

And the question in this case lay not only, and not so much, in its size, rising above the ground by more than a few dozens of meters, but in the magecraft that filled it to the brim. Magecraft of a transcendental level and concentration, which seemed to distort even the movement of the very air itself, a heat haze that could only be seen in something intense enough to melt asphalt and metal.

Even for Alturia being near the huge wall was difficult. Not so much physically speaking, but mentally. Looking at the wall, it felt as if her mind was telling her that she should jump from the top, part of the mind begging her to check how it feels to free fall down from such a height…

The feeling beating into Alturia’s mind was comparable to the feeling of her spear, Rhongomyniad, such that the wall seemed like a force of nature. But, her spear was an integral part of the being calling itself Alturia, while the incomprehensible feeling she was having as she looked at the wall jutting upward like it wanted to swallow the sky, was alien to Alturia.

No, not completely alien…? For some reason, Alturia felt some kinship with it, a rather superficial one, as if looking for similar features in a photograph between two distant relatives. But it’s strange that the feeling is there in the first place.

Before Alturia could think of the matter even more, a boisterous voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hmm, Lord Gilgamesh sent reinforcements to our squad! Great, the soldiers need a rest!" It was a high-pitched, young, feminine voice, and short and to the point, as if the one saying these words was more accustomed to giving short orders or battle cries than to normal conversations.

"Lord Ushiwaka, please don't jump from such a height!" Next came a masculine voice, more mature, and much lower and deeper, but Alturia did not pay much attention to it. Instead, her full attention was taken by the small object currently falling from the top of the battlements and growing ever larger as it came close.

Dropping with a large thud, knocking out dust at the moment of its landing, Alturia was not at all shocked by the display. Most Servants with even a modicum of physical ability would be able to repeat the feat, but that was not what attracted her attention. 

In Alturia’s opinion, there was a certain gradation of clothing according to the level of how decent the clothing was for public exposure. At the top there were monastic robes, where nothing and no skin was shown at all, before descending to casual clothes like t-shirts and jeans, then to evening dresses, with mini-skirts the limit of what can be considered ‘casual’. But seeing as some Servants were in clothes that were more suitable for succubi than for people, Alturia was somewhat used to seeing some skin being overly displayed. 

In any case, all that was clothing. 

Perhaps clothing that was barely suitable for appearing on the street in it, but still clothing. Not so often, in all history, could some clothing be called more vulgar than if the person was simply naked. Until recently, Alturia had not personally encountered such clothes or people who would wear it. 

Until, that is, about one second ago.

Alturia, in general, had nothing against the stylized samurai armor worn on the woman’s, because what she’s wearing there’s little doubt about that, legs and arms. And that was it. What she was wearing on the other parts of her body could not be called armor at all, other than some kind of fetishization of it. 

To compare, the armor Alturia wore might not look like full-fledged armor, which was easy to see in any history textbook, but it still has a semblance of it. As a manifestation of the legend of Alturia as a Servant, her armor had less unambiguous correlation with real historical models and more with her ‘image’, with a certain ‘idea’ of what armor the legendary personality of Alturia would wear.

The fact that the lower part of the body of the young girl, who looked line one that had barely left the age of a schoolgirl, was covered only by two separate voluminous trouser legs tied to a belt. yes, trouser legs, and that’s it. These ‘coverings’ that barely covered her legs in any way, in fact Alturia could still see her inner thighs, were connected to what could only best be described as ‘panties’. 

It was a way of dress that is very hard to reconcile for Alturia, however, it was still not impossible. Different times and different legends gave birth to different Servants, some of whom preferred a more… ‘Open’ image.

However, the fact that her entire upper half was uncovered, her modesty only protected by a pair of flaps with bits of armor on it, descending from the girl's shoulders. An errant gust of wind would show off her breasts to the entire world! 

It made Alturia look at the Servant standing in front of her not as a potential ally or even an enemy, but as a living violation of modesty in the entire existing world!

"Hmm, I suppose it was you who were mentioned in the report from Lord Gilgamesh!" The exhibitionist girl in front of Alturia, however, was not at all embarrassed by her state of dress, which was so close to the definition of nudity that, it seems, she accidentally stepped over it altogether. Rather than being embarrassed at being stared at by Alturia, she instead showed an open smile to her. 

"Servant Rider, Minamoto-no-Yoshitsune! Or, I suppose, Ushiwakamaru! Glad to fight hand in hand with a new ally!"

"Ah, ahem, please excuse me, Lord Ushiwaka tends to act somewhat recklessly in the face of unexpected events happening before her, but she acted with the best of intentions!" The Servant who descended after her, by climbing down the stairs, by the way, turned out to be a tall middle-aged man dressed in clothes suitable for both a wandering monk and a warrior. A warrior monk, essentially. It was an image especially strengthened considering the variety of weapon bundles peeking out from behind his back. Weapons ranging from halberds to maces, from horseman's picks to swords, and all other kinds of rare weapons. 

"Ah, yes, my name is… Musashibō Benkei, a loyal follower of Lord Ushiwaka. Honored to make your acquaintance."

"Alturia Pendragon," Alturia replied, not taking her eyes off Ushiwakamaru, who in turn was examining her with a look that combined the childlike spontaneity of a playful dog and the experienced gaze of a samurai who had seen many years of war.

"Is something wrong?" After a couple of seconds of mutual examination, Ushiwakamaru asked the question in a straightforward tone, causing Alturia to exhale and concentrate on what she was supposed to say next for a moment.

Alturia, as a Servant, used her armor as her image, her appearance, one might say was another tool for her, an appearance which was most consistent with her legend. It wasn't that she couldn't exist in another form or that losing some part of her armor would affect her combat skills, but Alturia Pendragon, after all, was a Servant. She was an existence that exists in a certain form, so to speak, which was most familiar to her perception and the most ‘ideal’, from her point of view. 

However, being one of the versions of Artoria Pendragon, Alturia still retained some part of the ‘image’ of what ‘Arthuria’ was supposed to look like, and therefore could only deviate a little from her own ideal. As long as it did not go into the territory of full-fledged ‘skills’ or similar abilities, she could copy some aspects of what ‘Arthuria’ was supposed to look like.

Though, at this moment, what matters most was the fact that one specific article of clothing could be summoned. 

And so, after a moment, a luxurious blue and white robe appeared in Alturia’s hands, a royal mantle of heavy luxurious fur… Which a moment later found itself on Ushiwakamaru's shoulders.

‘Perhaps I'm still not entirely sure what exactly my legend should be based on.’ Alturia glanced at Ushiwakamaru, who, having found herself practically buried under the heavy fur cape, began to turn her head from side to side, like a small pet that had suddenly discovered a new detail in its life, trying to figure out what exactly the cape thrown over her shoulders was. 

‘But if from now on, all my actions and my character depend entirely on my judgments alone… Then starting with instilling some modesty in the Servants around me doesn't seem like such a bad idea.’

After another moment, Alturia caught Benkei's gaze with her own, who seemed to cast an almost offended look at Ushiwakamaru’s current appearance, currently practically drowning in a huge mantle… After which, catching Alturia’s gaze, he turned his gaze to the side, extremely interested in how exactly the huge walls built by Gilgamesh around his entire kingdom looked up close.

Alturia only breathed out a little irritably through her nose at these actions. Stopping herself from summoning her spear to smite a perverted Monk.

Perhaps there was still something to the ideals of chivalry that another version of Artoria Pendragon once followed.

***

Jacques de Molay, the worldly avatar of Shub-Niggurath, a personage directly connected to the Black Goat herself, possessed quite remarkable capabilities thanks to this connection. Although she could not be fully considered a deity or a Divine Spirit, just as Shub-Niggurath was not considered a full-fledged deity by the ‘ordinary’ inhabitants of Earth and the Throne of Heroes. And Jacques likes it that way. 

After all, her special nature opened up outstanding opportunities for her even without or perhaps because of her lack of Divinity… For example, in terms of awareness of the living beings around her.

And the Black Sea, spawned by Tiamat around the entire kingdom of Gilgamesh, was a living organism.

To be more precise, it was a living organism in the same sense that each cell of an organism can be considered a separate living being. Technically speaking, each cell of an organism was ‘alive’, but only the commonality of these cells, the organism itself, was considered a full-fledged living being from the point of view of the average person. 

Similarly, the black sea that stretched from the walls to the horizon before Jacques de Molay's eyes, was definitely ‘alive’, but it could hardly be called a living being… Although, in relation to Tiamat, the creator and source of this Black Sea, the situation became even more confusing.

The Living Black Sea before Jacques' eyes was not some primitive primordial soup made of the building blocks of life, the previously obtained description from Merlin made such a description woefully wrong. It was much simpler to consider it an unstoppable ocean of a million very small but fully existing biological nano-robots capable, if necessary, of taking any form. All the while not completely losing the ability to break apart back into their component parts and reassemble again. 

A perfect biological constructor capable of creating any living being… In theory.

If Tiamat were fully awake and fully sane, creating an army of millions of gods, each either a copy or a wholly unique being, would not be impossible. But, the Tiamat right now, was a Beast and in a state of constant, unending delirium, which is why everything that emerged from the Black Sea was nothing but monsters. Tiamat had not used even a thousandth of a percent of her capabilities… 

But even so, the monsters she created were endless in the literal sense of the word. Monsters that seek to prey on Humanity, to add more to their biomass, before being beaten back by Gilgamesh’s armies or just retreating after completing their so-called objective. 

And yet, even knowing that their victory was pyrrhic at best, each time the tide of monsters was beaten back, the people would celebrate joyfully after a successful defense of their kingdom.  They would pat the shoulders of the man that had stood on the walls beside them, exuberant at their victory, even if they understood that they had not even faced one percent of Tiamat's power. Even if they understood that tomorrow the attack would come again, and that their numbers are slowly dwindling. 

Each and single time, they would joyfully shout as they threw off the last remains of the destroyed monster from the walls, as if they had passed with honor and dignity the monumental test that had fallen to their lot. A test rather than the slow grinding of the last of Humanity to dust.

A facet of humanity that seemed… Of interest to Jacques.

Individuals did not interest Jacques, they were simply a small particle of the organism called ‘Humanity’. So small and insignificant that there was no possibility to even call it ‘alive’ in her point of view, just as it was impossible to call a cell of an organism fully ‘alive’. Humanity was only interesting when they could act as an ‘organism’, the whole made up of an innumerable number of the same small particles. 

From the point of view of Jacques de Molay, the avatar of Shub-Niggurath, there was hardly any difference between Tiamat’s Black Sea, splashing behind Gilgamesh’s kingdom walls and the people manning it. 

And yet it was… Interesting to observe how a single commonality, an organism under the banner of the ‘defenders of the kingdom of Gilgamesh’ fought their enemy.

"Hmm, so you're the new reinforcement sent by that insufferable golden king?" The approaching voice made Jacques turn her head towards the flying figure of a girl in the sky. It was someone whom Jacques herself had already met as part of the procession of Ainz's Servants when they first found themselves in this Singularity. 

It was the girl who was on a strange flying device, sitting on one huge arch as if on a flying chair.

"Hmm, be content, for the most beautiful of all…"

After a moment, the girl in front of Jacques' face froze, clearly remembering Ozymandias' displeasure with the title she had used to introduce herself with in the past, and corrected herself. 

"The most beautiful of all goddesses, Ishtar, the patroness of Uruk and all the cities of Mesopotamia, the greatest goddess of the heavens, who will command you from now on! You are now free to celebrate your great luck!"

Ishtar, who at their previous meeting seemed almost hellbent on keeping her identity secret, this time proudly exclaimed her name to an audience of one. And furthermore, the way she had introduced herself, and the expectant expression on her face, it was as if she was expecting Jacques to fall on her knees in worship just from the privilege of having the ‘great’ Ishtar deign to introduce themselves. 

It was so arrogant and ridiculous that it instead skipped past the meter and entered the realm of charming instead. Like a five-year-old child's attempt to convince their parents that, yes, all the candy in the house had indeed mysteriously evaporated from its packages. 

Ishtar was raising her chin high, as if expecting an admiring squeal from Jacques. When such a thing didn’t happen, even as she waited for a dozen long seconds, Ishtar glanced at Jacques with displeasure, then sighed in disappointment. 

And, not bothering to hide her disappointed irritation, turned around on the spot, directing her flying transport away, with her head held high. It was as if she was trying, with her whole appearance, to show how much Jacques herself should have been worried about the fact that Ishtar no longer blessed her with her presence.

Jacques, having watched Ishtar’s display, pondered for a moment whether it made sense for her to include such an element as the goddess of Babylon in her perception of ‘humanity’. Her pondering took a backseat, however, as she could see another Servant approaching. 

"Good day," The approaching Servant turned out to be a girl of relatively short stature, with long white hair that at its ends turned into an ashy shade of blonde. And with eyes of red and her elongated pupils, and two prominent horns rising from her forehead, the Servant looked like quite the demonic figure. 

"I am the commander of the Western Wall. Tomoe Gozen."

"Oh? How strange, Ishtar there just declared herself to be the commander of the defenders stationed here?" Jacques, instantly grasping the truth of the situation, smiled slightly at the Servant approaching her.

"And as long as no one objects to this statement, Ishtar does not prevent her subordinates from doing something as uninteresting as commanding." Tomoe smiled back as if she was sharing some great secret, before nodding her head slightly, pointing to the side, towards the expanse of the wall’s battlements. 

"If the confusion has been cleared up… Shall we take a walk? Today we expect about three more attacks by monsters, so we need to determine where exactly your help is needed at the moment."

Jacques simply smiled back, eager to see the fight between the two feuding organisms. Tiamat’s Black Sea, and the last remnants of Humanity.

Alas, despite the fact that she would like to be an unrelated third figure in this fight, she was firmly on the side of ‘Humanity’, so she had to put her hands on the scale, so to speak.

‘Perhaps in the future…’