The bar is unusually empty. Just one girl, sitting on a barstool, reading one of a rather large stack of napkins.
"Weird. On my world if something like that happened, we'd have a good idea who did it - if it was a god, anyway, if it was just a fae fucking with people that'd be a different matter."
"Oh well. Whether or not a god exists is of less practical value to us than to most people, anyway."
"I mean, I do have dead loved ones, I strongly hope that my original mother and brother for example haven't been consigned to oblivion, but. Yeah."
"I'm not sure how much use that is, since we of all people are unlikely to ever know. But who knows, maybe someone will turn up with a resurrection power and people will come back to life effusive about the pearly gates--a stereotypical image of the entrance to an afterlife--and then we'd know."
"Assuming we become public knowledge. Which hopefully would wait until we're sure the statute of limitations has run out on being a supervillain."
"Okay, I have homework, so one day I can be useful to people who don't happen to have the exact problem I happened to decide to read a book on. It was nice meeting you both, though."