Adarin cackles. "I am the luckiest man alive, you have no idea."

"I am starting to get some idea," snorts Veron. "Congrats."

Now there is no more blood on Isabella's hands, so she can go up to her husband and kiss him for that, mwah.

He is delighted with this! Kiss!

"Also cute. Glad you're happy, Adarin."

"So happy!" he agrees, giggling.

Isabella is happy too! Look how happy she is, snuggling her husband like that.

Veron shrugs. "Nah. But who cares if you light some candles and people clap? You're happy, she's happy, I assume you're taking over the world or something together. Robot army and resurrection and immortality and everything that you can do. So. No complaints."

"We are ludicrously rich off a portal network and colonizing space and everyone gets to be alive as soon as I have some logistics worked out and it's awesome!"

Veron bursts out laughing. "Wish I could say I was surprised, but. Nope."

Isabella beams.

Adarin grins and snuggles his wife.

"I mean, I wasn't expecting the flavor to be 'anti-death economic takeover with colonization of space' but... Kinda knew something big would happen. Adarin's that kind of kid. Glad I get to see it."

"I may be contributing more than my share, flavorwise," muses Isabella. "Honey, was there something big you wanted to do? We can probably fit in more things somewhere, we're immortal."

"Hmmmm. Colonization's mine, don't worry - I suppose we could start checking other planes? Become a plague of utopias."

"Ooooh yes," says Isabella. "A utopian plague on all their houses."

"They will curse our names as they live long, happy, and comfortable lives."

Zeviana snorts.

"Guess Kystle's not worth salvaging anymore, huh?"

"We're helping the refugees, carefully, because mages are prickly, but... Yeah, no. It's - there's not going to be anything left."

Adarin snuggles his wife. "Sorry."

"Eh. I vote we wait a hundred years or so, then go in spells blazing, beat the fuck out of the bastards, resurrect everyone we can find the names of, and then throw a huge party."

Adarin snorts. "Maybe. As a possible project sometime in the unforeseeable future."