"Okay. I really don't have any plans to mistreat any vassals I acquire here but I understand the desire for caution."

"You did accrue quite a bit of credibility by warning us in the first place. But people are justifiably terrified of Masters, and if it were to come out that we had potentially put random people under the complete control of a previously unknown hero, public opinion would turn against everyone involved in a heartbeat."

"I'd hesitate to describe the control as 'complete'. Vassals can escape sometimes. But yeah."

"Anything else before I arrange for what we've talked about so far?"

"Can these... machine lights be moved out of the way? I'd prefer to do my own lighting."

"They can be turned off easily like this." She flicks the switch on the nearest one, and it winks out. "If you want them moved physically too, I can send someone."

"Yes please. They're... not exactly decorative."

This is true. "All right. None of this should take very long."

"Thank you." Pause. "Oh, there is one thing fairies can do you might find useful that I don't mind doing. Mortals have a lot of different languages, right? I should be able to translate between them very easily and can't think of a good reason not to, if you need that done."

The Director pauses for a bit, then says "We do have translators for the languages that come up, but I'll keep it in mind. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Director Piggot has a lot of Promise-related paperwork. But first she digs up the introductory explanation on "so you appeared on Earth Bet with no memory," and directs minions to help arrange Promise's accommodations. Then she gets down to making sure everything Promise said is officially known to the PRT.

Promise reads the pamphlet. It is not really intended for her, but it is still interesting and informative. When the lights have been taken away, she fills the room with a scattering of fairylights. Occasionally she throws a bit of plant stem through where the gate will be. She puts off eating for the time being; she didn't bring that much food. She asks a minion for paper to draw on, though, and doodles.

At a point where no one else is present, a dark gaseous form glides through the door and solidifies. "Hello again, fairy."

"Hello. ...It's Promise."

"I was already invisible when I arrived, and certainly didn't understand enough of what was going on to be confident in helping more than I hurt if I did something. The Director has already confirmed that my 'Master power' doesn't work on Endbringers and might consider it too much of a risk to give me any more common mortal names. I did offer to do translation as long as I'm here."

"...Do you have a point?"

She shrugs. "Not really. I just came to find out if you were a fighter or a victim. Wasn't expecting it to be that obvious. But at least you'll fit right in with the rest of these people."

"Is this a normal classification mortals make amongst themselves or just you?"

"Some don't. Others pretend not to. But when things get bad enough that's the question that matters."

"Who exactly would you have me fighting? Property thieves?"

"Thieves. Drug pushers. Murderers. Rapists. And the capes that protect them. We've got all kinds of scum here."

"If you bring me a murderer or rapist and tell me what their name is, I will be willing to tell them to stop that. Sorcery is not a suitable field weapon in this world."