"No, we still have no way of accessing your universe."

"Ugh why," he whines.

"Because supervillains," she sighs.

He sighs, too.

...but there's only so bad he can feel while eating bacon. Nom.

He can enjoy his bacon, the twins will be eating bread fried in eggstuff.

Why are you not eating this, too? he wonders.

"The short answer is 'religious reasons.'"

And the long answer?

Would he like a History of Judaism lecture?

He would!

Then he can have one! She will be very emotional about it.

...okay this world isn't all that absolutely perfect. Also does she want a hug, he feels like maybe she could use a hug.

She would love a hug.

Hug. Very hug.

Would he like to hear other reasons why this world isn't perfect?

Yeah probably.

Homophobia! Sexism! Transphobia! Rape culture! Racism! War in the Middle East!

Holy cow they have a lot of things to fix don't they?

Yes. Yes they do.

Another hug? This time Kaede might be the one who needs it.

Kaede can have lots of hug.

Are there other terrible things, he feels like it can't be just that.

There are other terrible things! Ableism! Classism! Anti-Islamic prejudice! These things these particularly shitty examples of Islam are doing which is used as an excuse for the anti-Islamic prejudice! Female genital mutilation!

Wow wow wow this is terrible he has to fix all of this—

And then--he is surrounded.

The magic is obvious first, but it quickly becomes apparent that he can't see the twins' kitchen at all. Colors swirl from a vortex somewhere far below to another far above.

(If he cares to pay attention to it, the magic is highly complicated, on a level with the twins' magical girlhood, and connected to--something. Elsewhere.)

A pair of winding helixes appear, spiraling around him, each a braid of three strands. One is identifiable--somehow--as native Galatean magic, the three kinds of basic magic winding together. Fibers from one felt into another, at times, representing metamagic. One is what appears to be this world's magic, oddly--monochromatic--compared to the Galatean one, and with the "sorcery" strand much thicker than the other two. The two braids spin closer and closer together and then vanish before either can touch him.

There is an image of his two faces--his four faces--superimposed in a way that leaves each one distinctly visible, somehow. Change. Identity, some kind of not-voice whispers from nowhere.

Magic rippling under his fingers, under his power. Control, it says. Perfection. Knowledge.

The magic around him folds into something incredibly similar to the twins' magical girlhood, with a handful of presumably normal variations and a connection to the something elsewhere that is absent in the twins.

Power. Do you want it?