Starlight does their best to become unremarkable. They quietly approach Bandit groups and try to bribe them out of their chosen lifestyle. Grimm approaching unaware settlements sometimes just disappear at first as part of experiments with transposes and other technologies but later in an effort to improve people's lives. Other attacks are stopped by the timely arrival of Huntresses and Huntsman transposed into the vacinity. Medical supplies become more abundantly available. Food also becomes more abundant.

Quietly they obtain a small animal with an activated aura and perform the tests Ozpin requested.

Deep within the oceanic crust they begin to build a facility to conduct experiments with Salem's help.

Riley is sent to examine the Pool of Light.

Some bandits are amenable to bribery. A few are amenable to being given money and supplies, but seem confused about the whole "stopping banditry" thing afterwards. But this is a fairly rare problem even in Vacuo; banditry is not a healthy occupation on a planet covered in Grimm. More common are insular communities, distrustful of outsiders. Occasionally, the line between "peaceful settlement" and "raiding party" is blurred by fortune or famine.  

People feel the reduced Grimm presence like the lifting of a massive weight. Population booms. A handful of settlements expand into areas formerly deemed borderline unsafe. Most survive the attempt, but the one that tragically doesn't is international news. 

Starlight's tests prove fruitful. An awakened animal taken outside Remnant suffers no observable ill effects. Outside Remnant, Aura continues to regenerate after being drained. Aura is neither conserved nor localized to Remnant. Intrigued and somewhat disturbed, Ozpin proposes increasingly esoteric follow-up tests involving human volunteers, magic, and Semblances, most of which Starlight is able to perform. The results strongly suggest that immortality is safe on Remnant. Ozpin admits to being mostly convinced, pending results of the Well of Light experiments. One of the major convincing points is Starlight's ability to measure ambient "exotic effects" on a global scale, to a precision previously unheard of. Ozpin names three thousand, seven hundred and seventy-three independent magical variables to monitor at multiple locations ("a small but adequate sample"), and tentatively backs Starlight's push to roll out immortality, although his proposed timeline is still more cautious than they might prefer. 

The Well of Light is true to its name; a pool of shimmering liquid not unlike water, surrounded by golden flowers. It sits in a valley in the mountains, cliffs on all sides save one. A path of ancient stone leads from a stair in a nearby canyon, but the path is marred and the canyon sealed off by several impact craters. 

Flight and teleportation are convenient. Before she gets into Ozpin's requested tests she takes some initial scans. How far off the scale is this place relative to the rest of Remnant?

Several dimensions of ambient magic are an order of magnitude higher than baseline in Remnant, and one (commonly associated with Aura and life-forms) is several orders higher. The Well itself is the magical equivalent of radioactive, although not in an obviously harmful sense. 

Have previous studies identified the function of those dimensions? Also does the Well itself bear any similarities to Aura?

The most potent measure is one of two "fundamental forces" underlying most of Remnant's magic, with the other being more associated with Grimm and the Land of Darkness. In Starlight's observations, complex interactions between these two forces produce most of Remnant's exotic effects, analogous to the way that electrons and protons interact to form matter. The other measurements are mostly second-order observations, analogous to chemical tests or spectrum analysis, which indicate but do not govern the presence of certain specific effects. Riley can detect elevated levels of metrics known to be associated with various types of Dust, Salem and Ozpin's magic, awakened Aura, and high concentrations of people or flora and fauna. Magic and Dust have a larger proportion of "Dark" than "Light." Aura contains a near-equal balance of the two forces, and unawakened life-forms have higher "Light" concentrations. 

The Well itself is almost pure "Light" force. This is one component of Aura, but obviously not Aura itself. Notably, the "Dark" level in this region is only slightly below baseline. Also notably, no connection has yet been drawn between either force and Semblances. 

A more thorough survey of semblances is definitely on the list to research later.

Riley does some more thorough mapping for archival purposes. She follows up with the specific tests agreed upon with Ozpin meant to determine if the well contains souls waiting to be reincarnated she doesn't expect that it does given the previous results though.

There is no indication that the Well contains anything more complex than pure Light. It lacks the necessary interweaving of Dark to contain Aura, and none of the usual indicators for presence of an interface in Starlight parlance. The edge effects are moderately interesting - some highly complex magic is confining the Light to liquid form and preventing it from evaporating, so to speak - but Ozpin's proposed tests for reincarnation come up negative. 

"I expect everyone is happy about these results." On the more mixed side of being an explorer is being under constant monitoring while under assignment but it does mean someone is likely to reply to her absent comments.

Caroline replies in her head as she expected. "A couple contrarians in our context pool are annoyed but yeah generally we're glad to be able to move forward. We'd already secured locations in the major settlements so now we just need to slowly ramp up."

"Contrarians will be contrarians. Onto the next tests." She pulls out various material samples to see what happens when they're exposed to the pool. First set is a piece of machined wood, a bar of iron and a quartz crystal rod. All long enough to be partially submerged while still having pieces outside the pool. She inserts and end of the first sample with telekinesis just in case.

Nothing happens. According to measured readings, the rods never actually touch the Light. The edge effects - identifiable as a ludicrously more complex variety of the kind of protections in Oz's sanctum - keep them separated. 

"Not too surprising Ozpin likely would have mentioned if there were obvious effects though a bit disappointing." Presumably the same effect is keeping it from effecting any bacteria in the air. Still she'll run the next test for throughness sake. Is there any difference when exposing a caterpillar to the pool? If not she'll proceed to the next test of conjuring a small mote of Grimm flesh first outside to be pushed in.

The caterpillar is unaffected. 

The Grimm flesh experiences a strong repulsion, originating not from the Light but from the magical protections surrounding it. Even when pushed into the pool, the two substances refuse direct contact. Teleportation doesn't seem to bypass this, either. Forcing the issue would (presumably) require damaging or dismantling the protections keeping the Light in the pool. Riley might be able to accomplish this with what Starlight knows about magic thus far, but the results would be hard to predict. 

Destroying the pool would also probably alienate Ozpin so it's not something she's allowed to experiment with. At least not for as long they're trying to maintain a good working relationship with him.

She absently fiddles with the beginning of a design to make portable bottles of "light" but puts them aside. Anything that potentially explosive she wants to test by remote and designing stuff that works remotely isn't a casual project.

She sends off her results to the general queue and returns to her personal lab. There are a few things she's been fiddling with since she finished the dust stabilization system design to make emergency evacuation safe.

Siobhán takes some time out of her schedule to have another meeting with Ozpin.

Ozpin is always happy to make time for a representative of the ludicrously advanced universe-hopping civilization currently uplifting his species in a manner that may or may not invite armageddon. 

"I must admit," he begins once they have settled into his office, "I've been following your tests with a keen interest. Your methods are quite thorough, but the results are frankly astonishing. I've had to reevaluate quite a few assumptions these past few weeks." 

"It's good that you've retained that flexibility. We're going to start the rollout of reincarnation as agreed. We'll continue to update you as further results come in. This meeting is mostly to check if there's any reason to change that plan, and also to ask if you have any further leads on combatting Salem. The pool was the best lead we had and while Riley does have some thoughts about harvesting a bit of the pool's liquid and destabilizing it later that seems a bit too tenuous to be actually tested unless we're desperate."

"Your studies of the pool present some fascinating insights. You are right to be cautious, though. If your observations about the fundamental structure of our world's magic are correct, the Wells of Light and Darkness are the world's only known sources of their respective elements in pure form. Even Grimm make some use of ambient Light in order to function. We do not know what would happen if either pure element were to be released upon the world. Fortunately, the protections you described are quite thorough." Ozpin sighs. "Would that I had the time to study them farther..." He trails off wistfully. "Ah, well." 

After a pause to sip from his ever-present mug of coffee, Ozpin fixes Siobhán with a penetrating stare. "You are aware of my concerns about working with Salem on Grimm experiments, or allowing her a chance to manipulate or corrupt your scientists. Your precautions are impressive and admirable, but Salem's propensity for sowing malice is equally so. Still, I've seen enough of Starlight's methods to develop a measure of much-needed trust. I think it's time I elaborated on the few tools we have available, tools of which Salem herself is already aware, so there is little risk of exposing them indirectly. In addition to the valor and Semblances of Huntsmen and Huntresses, and the old magic, I know of three unique assets that humanity possesses. 

"One, you know already: the four relics of the gods. In addition to their stated purpose, to resummon the gods to Remnant, each relic also possesses a unique power. The Staff of Creation can conjure and maintain a single object or magical effect, provided the user can precisely specify its function and workings by description or analogue. It is currently being used to levitate Atlas and protect it from ground-based Grimm. That use was initially somewhat contentious, but it has proven quite valuable; protection from a large fraction of Grimm attacks has enabled Atlas to pour resources into technological advances that, before Starlight's arrival, were our most promising new tool against the Grimm. But I digress. 

"The Lantern of Knowledge can truly and completely answer any three questions in the span of a century, though it does not answer questions posed about the gods or the deepest workings of magic. It has helped me considerably to fill in the gaps in my knowledge of Salem's past and the nature of her immortality, though its limitations render each question a scarce and valuable resource. It is currently being kept in Mistral. 

"The Sword of Destruction can bring ruin to physical objects or magical constructs alike. Unfortunately, since it does not work on creatures of Grimm, the danger of its falling into the wrong hands were deemed far greater than the benefits of its use, and was locked away in Vacuo. 

"The Crown of Choice grants uncontrollable visions of the future. I have tested them enough to confirm that they are visions of possible futures, rather than guaranteed outcomes, but their frequency and usefulness are limited. I suspect there may yet be more to discover of the enigma of the Crown, which is why it is kept here in Vale.

"The existence of these relics is a closely-guarded secret. It was not always so, but when the relics were common knowledge, bitter and devastating wars were fought over their possession, wars that nearly destroyed humanity. Misuse of the Sword in particular caused much death and suffering. Rather than invite the excesses of greed and lust for power, I allowed the knowledge of these and other magics to fade into myth and obscurity. 

"Potentially of interest to Starlight, all four relics manifest a spirit that can converse with the user, though they are unwilling to speak much on topics unrelated to their relic's core effect. I am unsure whether the spirits themselves are possessed of consciousness, but if they are, they do not seem in any way displeased by their limited scope of action." 

"I see, we did wonder about what was keeping Atlas up. We had studied the effect but hadn't determined what was causing it beyond that it was almost certainly not gravity dust and that it was for some reason a secret.  We can likely provide alternative security for Atlas if nessecary but no immediate plans for using the artifact come to mind. The possibility of asking questions with accurate answers is intriguing but the limitations you spoke of means it will take careful thought we'll likely ask you further details about those limitations. Unless there's more to the sword I'm unsure what the benefit might be. We can study it in the hopes of determining whether it's able to disrupt magics like Salem's immortality but it doesn't sound promising if it has no effect on the Grimm. We would be happy to assist in your studies of the crown. Precognition of any sort is something we regard with a great deal of caution. Though showing possible futures is less concerning than if it was known to be accurate."

"Security would be helpful, but I would be more concerned with the problem of maintaining Atlas airborne if the Staff were to be otherwise employed. An emergency reserve of gravity Dust can keep Atlas from falling immediately, but it would not last long. Thankfully, there is no urgent need to solve this problem; the Staff is safely sealed away. 

"The Sword can injure Salem, as she was once human, but her brand of immortality - and mine, for that matter - is beyond its scope. Otherwise, our war might have gone far differently." Ozpin sighs, looking away. 

"The relics are not the only relevant magic, however. There are others able to wield the old magics, but their story is somewhat more...personal." 

"We could assess options if we had a need. I don't anticipate one though. If the story behind other magic users is personal does that mean they were once friends or perhaps something closer still?"

"The story I am about to tell you is not one I would choose to share, but I fear what may happen if you hear it first from Salem, in distorted form. I know I cannot bar you from recording it, nor reporting it to your colleagues in Starlight. I do not ask that your organization keep it secret forever, but please know that it is a deeply painful and personal story, and one that, if told at the wrong time to the people of Remnant, do irreparable harm. We have a saying, on Remnant, so ubiquitous that it crossed continents before our technology did. 'Disaster brings the ravens, and division, the wolves.' 

"Rather than risk a misunderstanding in the future, I will tell it as fully and honestly as I can..." Ozpin's breath catches. "However it may grieve me to recall. 

"Still, I must beg of you and yours discretion in this matter. Only share that which necessity demands. The workings of old magics have strategic and scientific value, but there is little to be gained by dredging up ancient loves and sorrows, and much harm may be done thereby." 

"We do our best to exercise discretion around personal stories. Based on our experience thus far with Salem, we mostly use her to confirm things we know from elsewhere. She isn't considered trustworthy given her admitted association with the Grimm. If you'd prefer, you can wait to explain until it becomes relevant."

"I cannot risk half-truths now. I shall tell it once, and be done. 

"Before Salem's fall, before the Brothers Grimm destroyed the world, Salem and I were lovers. I was Ozma, then, a scholar and a protector, and she was a student of magic like me. For a time - a time so old we can scarce recall it - we were happy. 

"I fell ill, and died in her arms. Salem begged my life of the Brothers Grimm, nearly sparking a feud between them in the process, but in the end, they refused, and cursed her. Broken and half-mad with grief, but no less brilliant for her pain, Salem convinced the nations of the world to march against the gods, to seize power and immortality for themselves. The gods' response, you already know. They destroyed the world that had betrayed them, and left it. It was after their departure that Salem, desperate for release, immersed herself in the Well of Darkness, and became a monster. 

"The God of Light sent me back. In addition to the task he set me, the elder brother tried to warn me about Salem's changes. Young and naiive as I was, I heard but did not understand. Upon my first reincarnation, I awoke in a strange and different world, filled with deadly Grimm. I did what I could, awakening the Auras of some, using magic and skill to protect scattered villages, until I heard rumors of one who commanded the same powers as myself - one feared far and wide as a witch. Having encountered my own share of fear and prejudice among humans and Faunus, I discounted these rumors as likely mistakes. Thus bolstered by hope and wishful thinking, I made my way to her. 

"So long had it been since we last saw one another, that mountains had risen and been worn down, and an entire new species of humanity had evolved from the ashes of apocalypse. I wore a different face, a different body. And yet, somehow, she recognized me. Together, we emerged from the forest she had made her home, and together we abandoned secrecy. We appeared to the magicless humans nearby and used our power to crush the Grimm that threatened them. We seemed to them as saviors, as protectors - even as gods. Our rule was swift and unchallenged.

"So blinded was I by the joy of our reunion, I failed to see what she had become. I wanted to guide humanity, to build a civilization that could be safe from the Grimm. She wanted to rule, to conquer. For a time, my urgings for restraint won out.

"Until our daughters came." 

"Four girls, each as sweet and kind as a parent could hope for. And each gifted with the magic that we had thought had been erased from the world forever. I saw in our children the bounty of autumn, the serenity of winter, the joy of summer, and the hope of spring. 

"But Salem saw only power. To her, our daughters represented not a gift to the new humanity, but a replacement for them. One to be imposed, if necessary, by force." 

"I soon realized the depths of my blindness. I agreed to Salem's plan, and that night, I took our daughters and fled.

"Salem found us. Her rage was terrifying. We fought. For the first time we tore at one another not in practice but in truth, wielding all the destructive power of the old magics with intent to kill. We were evenly matched, for a time, but Salem regenerated, and I did not. There was only ever one possible outcome. 

"But neither of us bore the greatest tragedy. Caught in the maelstrom we created, helpless to defend themselves, our daughters did not survive the fight." 

"My condolences. Loss is a terrible thing, I can only imagine how difficult it has been to bear the weight through the years."

"...thank you. I wish...no, there is nothing to be gained by dwelling on it. 

"A strange phenomenon began that night. Our daughters died, but their power did not pass from this world. It instead passed to four young women, seemingly at random, who lived on Remnant at the time. And that power - control of the old magics, and some faint instinctive knowledge of its use - has continued to pass from person to person until this day. This is the magic of the Four Maidens. When a bearer of this power dies, the power passes to the woman foremost in their thoughts at the time of death. If their thoughts were not of a suitable candidate, the power chooses a new host seemingly at random. 

"I cannot fully explain the Maidens' magic. Perhaps our daughters inherited some measure of my own reincarnating soul, or Salem's immortality, or both. A small few of my trusted allies are aware of the Maidens and the relics, but even they do not know of my history with Salem. I...would prefer it stay this way. They know what they need to know, and they see me -"

"Well, you can understand why I do not make a habit of telling this particular story." 

"They see you as a counterpoint to Salem, as someone to look up to. And this would complicate that." She pauses. "It must be isolating, trying to project that image of perfection. I hope we're able to make it unnecessary."

"As do I." 

"Do you know where these Maidens are? We would be happy to help provide them with discreet security if that would be appreciated. We can also try to better understand the mechanism by which the power moves though I'm unsure what might come of such studies. Especially given that ethically speaking we couldn't actually observe the mechanism in action unless one of them was willing to give up the power."

"As yet the only known way to pass on the power is death, and that is not an experiment I'm willing to condone. Perhaps after resurrection has been fully rolled out and vetted, one may volunteer. As for security, I believe the Maidens are more than capable of defending themselves, although an emergency teleport trigger would not go amiss. I would avoid asking for more, if only so I don't have to explain to James why I have allowed a foreign power to provide security for several of our most vital strategic assets." 

"That's very reasonable on both counts. If you're in contact with them you can extend the offer. We're always interested in more mysteries to investigate and death is to be avoided where possible. That said, I think you mentioned three magics at the start."

"I did. The third is the least understood, but still intriguing. You see, a rare and curious ability has surfaced among the people of Remnant. Individuals with this gift are marked at birth with silver eyes, and possess a power to destroy all but the most powerful Grimm with a glance. The power is unreliable and difficult to master, but it seems to relate to the user's state of mind in some way, not unlike many Semblances. Indeed, I initially believed this ability to be a hereditary Semblance, as is sometimes observed. But there have been too many unrelated examples for it to be a Semblance, and it co-occurs with Semblances among those with awakened Aura. Alas, few who display this ability have lived long enough to master it. I have reason to suspect Salem is attempting to hunt down these rare silver-eyed individuals, which is itself reason enough to protect them. At present, I am aware of only five such individuals, and only three of those are currently employing their powers as Huntsmen or Huntresses." 

"Interesting, that definitely seems like the most promising lead. Do you know of one who might be amenable to speaking with us and working towards understanding? Preferably one who has some measure of control over their abilities?"

"The most experienced is an Atlesian Huntress of some renown. She generally works alone, and keeps her face and name hidden, going instead by the bold, but not undeserved, title 'the Grimm Reaper.' She likes to hunt Grimm in the mountains near Mantle, but I expect you can catch her when she returns to town to stock up on supplies. As I recall, she has a somewhat stormy relationship with one of the Atlesian lieutenants, one Caroline Cordovin. James can put you in touch. Failing that, a young Huntress here in Vale might be glad to cooperate, though she lacks the same experience." 

"Thank you, we'll keep you appraised as to what we find. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"

"Not at this time. Thank you again, for all that Starlight has done for Remnant so far. The improvements have been quite impressive." 

"Thank you, hopefully we can continue to improve things." She pauses, "There is one more thing which occurs to me. We haven't inquired as to the specifics of your reincarnation out of politeness but now that we've largely addressed your concerns about our methods of immortality I'm curious if you would like us to attempt to preempt your reincarnation with our methods should the worst happen."

"Hmm. The nature of my reincarnation could interfere with your specific brand of revival. It is - not a pleasant process, for all involved." Ozpin sighs. "My current understanding of your technology is that you recreate a body for the Aura to inhabit, and a sort of beacon of attraction for the Aura of the deceased, which then naturally returns to that body, is that correct?"

"That's mostly correct. In our experience a body which is similar enough to the previous one hosting the Aura both in physical properties and mentality is a natural beacon for the Aura."

"When I reincarnate, no new body is created. Instead, my Aura joins that of an existing individual. We exist as independent minds occupying the same body until, after some years or decades pass, our Auras merge. I do not know what would happen if your method were to be applied to my snapshot after I died, but it is unlikely to be good for either spirit. In the best case, one revival might fail entirely; in the worst, it might do irreparable harm to both linked Auras." 

"That's a lot worse than we were expecting. Do you know if there's any delay? We can actually track individual Auras in real time and we can manufacture bodies a lot faster than the systems we've been distributing can. It's possible we could preempt things if we acted quickly enough. I understand being unwilling to make the attempt though. When an Aura is stretched between two bodies it can disrupt a person's magic and with something as... complex and integral as an awoken Aura I could see that causing problems."

"If there is any delay, it is not one I have been able to measure accurately. Fractions of a second, or not even that. If my own Aura were the only one at risk, I might perhaps take the chance, but Auras can be - insistent about things they are linked to. 

"I once knew a set of twins whose Semblance linked their Auras together. They could communicate over any distance, they felt each other's pain and sorrows. But when one of them was killed by Grimm, the other went comatose. At the time, I lacked the tools to fully diagnose their condition, but the second sibling showed signs largely associated with permanent Aura damage, and died not long after. And that was a loose bond compared to the - presumably stronger - linkage the God of Light crafted as my mode of reincarnation, strong enough to repeatedly draw a deceased soul intact from beyond the grave. 

"From the words of the Elder Brother, I gather this method was intended to ensure I would never grow apart from the people I sought to protect. I must admit it has accomplished this goal admirably, but... it is not a means I would have chosen for myself, had I known. Perhaps that is why the Elder Brother did not warn me." 

"That's reasonable, planning for the long term would you be willing to let us monitor things more closely to try to better understand your reincarnation process should it come to that? That would involve you wearing an item which would serve as a locus for scans should you be severely injured and giving us permission to immediately track the new individual you become attached to and dispatching a similar locus to that location."

"I will need to think on it, but the answer is likely yes. Obviously, given the technology you have available, the optimal outcome is that I never need to invoke this process again. But needs must prepare for the worst." 

"Nothing is a guaranteed protection against accident or malice but we will do our best to ensure that you are able to avoid triggering your reincarnation. I expect we will also offer the option to whoever you reincarnate into to preserve themselves unaltered in the dream or in a body like the one I wear that doesn't interact with Aura in the same ways."

"If it can be done without further harm...some I have known might have wished it. Thank you." 

"One member of the Atlesian military with an activated Aura agreed to be temporarily embodied in something like the body I wear. Both that and their eventual transfer back into a biological body appear to have matched our expectations, insofar as the behavior of their Aura are concerned. And you're welcome. Thank for being willing to talk about this. I know it must be a difficult topic."

"I saw the report. It represents heartening progress." Ozpin sips from his ever-present mug of coffee, at this point no longer steaming. "One grows accustomed to difficult topics after a while, but some never really become easy." 

"If they did I think it would mean we had lost something."

"Indeed."

"Still, I expect, the difficult topics will become more infrequent with time. And at least for the moment, I think this particular difficult discussion is at a close."

Not long thereafter, a cowled figure stalks Death in the mountains of Mantle. 

With their magic it's actually easier to find people who live isolated lives than those in large communities. Atlas's information, vague as it was, is more than enough to uniquely identify the person Ozpin suggested.

Riley may be arrogant but she's not so arrogant as to attempt to startle someone just because she can. Her transpose leaves her half a kilometer away and she hikes the rest of the distance even if she usually prefers flying in hard terrain like this.

The individual in question is currently battling a half-dozen winged Grimm - make that five, actually, there goes one's head - using a pair of handheld kamas. What appears to be Gravity Dust in the weapons powers an elaborate sequence of swift aerial maneuvers. 

Well it would be a shame to interrupt her fun. Riley silently works with her context to be ready to remove the Grimm if that becomes necessary but otherwise just watches until the woman is done.

Which takes a surprisingly short time, all told. As the last Grimm disintegrates into soot and bone, the figure lands gracefully and turns its head in Riley's direction. 

"Nice work. I don't think I've ever seen anyone use gravity dust quite like that."

"I'm not just anyone. What do you want?" The voice is soft, unhurried, but with a guarded edge to it. 

"I'm Riley Clearsky an Explorer with Starlight. I'm here on the suggestion of Ozpin from Beacon to learn more about the magic of the Silver Eyes. We think it might be helpful to solving the problem of the Grimm in the long-term."

"Starlight. Pretty name. I've heard good things about that name, in Atlas and Mantle. But you'll forgive me if I don't take your word that you are who you say you are." 

"Smart." She casually starts floating in the air. "What evidence would you accept?"

"Neat trick. Got any more? I hear Starlight reps have plenty. Like teleportation, for instance." 

"Just me?" She transposes 3 meters to one side, "Or would you like me to take you somewhere? There's a whole world out there." A small slightly translucent globe appears above her outstretched hand.

"I like it here, thank you. Hmmmm..." she glances down, then, with the blade of her weapon, flips a small rock towards Riley. "Catch." 

It stops abruptly midair in front of Riley and she lazily reaches out to pluck it from where it floats.

"Oops. Mind if I have that back?" 

"Sure," she makes a lazy gesture and the stone flies far faster than it would of she had actually thrown it. It's aimed directly at Maria's weapon. When it goes close enough it abruptly slows down and begins to orbit the shaft slowly.

She taps her other weapon against the orbiting rock. "So, no illusions. Alright, I'll bite. You might expect to be disappointed, though. I can't exactly share my eyes." 

"My first priority is to understand your eyes. If they seem promising, my next step is to find a way to copy their effects if possible."

"Intriguing. And what do you need from me?" 

"Mostly I need to be there when you use them. I'm also curious if you've ever used them for anything other than destroying Grimm."

"Can't say that I have. How much do you know about silver eyes?" 

"All I know is what Ozpin said and that wasn't too detailed. Mostly that they can be used to destroy Grimm, that they seem not to be a semblance, and that the people who have them are sometimes targeted by a particular individual."

She's nodding faintly, until the end. She stiffens, slightly. "By who?" 

"She goes by Salem, somehow she became partially Grimm and she has some degree of control over other Grimm though we're not sure how much." This is a bit of an understatement. Based on their extensive observation they're pretty sure her only limit is in how many Grimm she can control directly at a time.

Silence, for a time. 

"Any good reason she's still alive?" 

"She has some weird immortality where if something would kill her she shows up elsewhere instead. The hope is that maybe the effects of your eyes could disrupt that somehow."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's find some Grimm to vaporize." 

"I can just have a few teleported here. Any preference on kinds?"

"That's a damn fine trick. Surprise me." 

There's now a beowolf about ten meters away.

It snarls, dropping to all fours to get its bearings, then lunges at the pair. It only gets halfway before a brilliant silver-white flash washes over it. The Grimm disintegrates instantly. 

The effect registers to Riley's magical senses as unique among those encountered on Remnant thus far. Metaphysically speaking, it is neither Creation nor Destruction. Having integrated Remnant technology for measuring Aura, it is easy to notice that Maria's Aura did drop somewhat when it was used. By most metrics of Aura-per-effect, this was an astronomically efficient use of Aura, even after accounting for the fact that most of the released energy did not hit the Grimm. 

"Well that's deeply intriguing, your magic doesn't seem to be the based on that of the Gods of your world that we know about. Either there's a third god or your magic doesn't come from a god at all. It's also very promising." She looks over her scans, how did it interact with the magic of the Grimm... and how did it pull on her Aura.

"Really? Wait, those stories about the Brothers are true? How do you know that?" 

The flash had properties reminiscent of some kinds of antimagic. It neutralized the Grimm in a way very different, and largely orthogonal, to how Creation/Destruction antiparticles might theoretically interact (even assuming they could be forced together). The magnitude of the release is near the theoretical maximum energy for the lost Aura. The magic itself also contains a familiar signature, a cocktail of neutral and positive emotions characteristic of magics that require a particular mental state to produce. Love and determination are the most obvious in the mix. 

"We've found compelling evidence and we've talked with Salem and Ozpin both of whom claim to have been alive when the Brother Gods were present. It looks like you need to maintain a particular emotional state to do this is that correct?"

"You talked with the psychopath controlling the Grimm? And she didn't try to murder you? And yes, it's about - protecting life, preserving life, especially people you know and love." 

"Our diplomats are quite skilled. We're also a resource she wants to control. It's a dangerous balance we're striking but so far we think we've gotten more out of it than she has. Largely speaking we've gotten a lot of information on how she controls the Grimm and enough scans to have a decent chance of guessing whether something will put her down for good. We've also gotten useful information on her allies so we can neutralize them once she's out of the picture."

"Well, that's...good news, I suppose. Sounds like sleeping with the Taijitu to me, but what do I know, I just kill things. Speaking of, need me to dust some more?" 

"I'm not sure, are there variations in how it works? It there's variations it might be good to see and it wouldn't hurt to check. The main question is whether I can copy the effect with my magic or whether we need to get you to Salem and somehow avoid her killing you before you can kill her. I suspect that she's encountered people with your eyes before and so I doubt it's as simple as just getting you close. The first would be much better of course." Her context pool is also feeding her speculation that Silver Eyes are part of Salem's plan to kill the Gods they're considering whether they should ask her outright.

"Sometimes it petrifies Grimm instead of dusting them. Seems to be some combination of how much oomph I can give it and how powerful the Grimm is.

"...If Salem's the reason we're so rare then I bet she knows us, alright." 

"That might be it then. She has a lot more oomph behind her than a majority of the Grimm we've encountered. Maybe the amount of energy one of you can put behind things just isn't enough..."

"There are ways of boosting Aura - training is the most common, but I've also heard some Semblances can do it. In a pinch I can throw everything I've got into the eyes, but I don't know if I could do it perfectly without fail, up against whatever the hell Salem is. She's bound to have countermeasures. I sure would, if I lived forever and had basically one weakness."  

"Yeah... I think the best bet is to find a way to replicate it, if that works we can dump enough energy to level a few cities into it and hope that's enough. If we can't do that then there's a few routes we could take, maybe we can store it or maybe we can channel energy through you."

"You found me once, so I suppose you can find me again if you need to." 

"We can." She carefully doesn't mention that now they'll know precisely where she is until she dies. It's not that secret but it's not something they're supposed to advertise.

She makes her goodbyes and goes back to a workspace in one of their bases on Remnant. Copying the effects of the Silver Eyes takes work but it's not the most complicated magic she's copied. Making it scale to take in larger energies is harder but she does that too. And then she sets to closely examining their scans of Salem, Siobhán is sent with one excuse or another to take additional scans several times. They'll only get one chance at this so they plan very throughly. They also develop a backup plan. They've been building backups to keep Atlas afloat and if nessecary they'll try to use the Staff of Creation to contain Salem indefinitely if their first plan doesn't work. It takes months of meticulous preparation.

And then Siobhán makes another visit. The first step of their plan is a full mind backup. It's not too different from the many scans they've already run. And then without any warning the ten grams of antimatter Siobhán is carrying inside her body are channeled into a carefully designed artifact that floods Salem's body with Silver light both outside and in. Enough energy to glass a city floods out. Even Starlight's unreasonably capable sensors are temporarily blinded.

Nine out of ten Grimm in the vicinity of Salem's palace are instantly vaporized, along with all but the deepest nearby Grimm pools. 

She had taken precautions, of course, having suspected that silver eyes might negate her immortality. Magical layering ensured that the light of silver eyes would only petrify an exterior shell, protecting the rest of her Grimm-infused body from harm. 

And Ozpin had guessed how she'd do it, once consulted. Which is why Starlight's artifact didn't simply aim for the outer layer, but generated the light from everywhere. 

Powerful Salem may be, but she was not prepared to be nuked from the inside out with godkilling light. Her body vanishes utterly, and doesn't come back. 

Interestingly, the energy doesn't leave a crater. Or even so much as a scorch mark. 

She doesn't like this part of her job. She's not eager for what comes next either. She feels she owes it to Salem to at least try though. She waits a week to ensure Salem doesn't reappear on Remnant before loading up a copy of Salem in a virtual world.

Where is she - they transported her against her will - counterattack - 

- her Grimm aren't responding - 

- her magic isn't responding - 

- her body is wrong - 

"What have you done?" 

"We destroyed your body and your previous means of immortality. This is one of our virtual worlds."

"How?" Silver eyes, it must have been, but she never sensed anyone else nearby - and her defenses - 

"We replicated the effects of the silver eyes. To be through we manifested the effect throughout your body."

"...I see. I take it you didn't summon my shade into this prison merely to gloat." 

"We don't consider you a substantial threat at this point so we don't see any advantage in you being dead. Hopefully with time and therapy you can recover from what exposure to the pool of darkness did to your mind. As for broader matters, we're curious what your plan for removing the gods was. Our best guess is that it involved the Silver Eyes effect."

Not a substantial threat. 

She grits her teeth. Over the millennia, she's seen many reactions to her presence, from the frightened to the calculating to the outright mad. But it's been a long, long time since she's heard such condescension. 

It's true they displayed a staggering amount of power by undoing her so easily. But appearances can be deceiving. And she's played the helpless damsel before, much though it pains her to remember. Her goals have not changed, she will simply need to use new tools to achieve them. If anything, she now has even more powerful tools than before. 

"Why do you want to know? Planning a little deicide of your own?"

She still has a purpose to accomplish. 

...doesn't she? 

"Contingency planning. If the Gods become a threat having a way to counteract them would be helpful."

"If you think the gods are not currently a threat then you haven't been paying attention. At any point, they could decide that your interference with Remnant is sacrilegious enough to merit punishment, and they won't hesitate to wipe out your entire civilization to end the annoyance you pose. Do you honestly think your toys can prevent that?" 

"If they truly outclass us by that margin it's unclear to me how a preemptive strike would improve matters. We're not even certain where they're located at this time."

"The gods are powerful, not omniscient. They can be fooled, can be surprised. They can only guard against a threat they know about. If they find out about a weakness before it can be exploited, the weakness vanishes, do you understand? A preemptive strike is the only way to stop them, the only way to end the existential threat they pose to anyone and anything that interferes with their demented games." 

"How do you imagine they would know to expect the Silver Eyes? Also, do you know where they're located or is your plan simply to summon them with the relics and hope and a single surprise attack suffices?"

"They might know to expect them if, say, a member of your organization decided to go and talk to them to get their side of the story, thereby drawing their attention back to Remnant, a world they have been content to ignore for eons, and for all we know about their powers, mere curiosity may suffice from there! I know for a fact that you would do that, because Ozpin - " her voice catches, trembles, firms - "because Ozpin told you I was a dangerous monster and you came to talk to me! I worked with the tools I had, and against overwhelming odds, any plan with the barest hint of a chance at victory must be considered. If the gods somehow foresaw my attempt, the world ends, which was going to happen anyway so the only question was whether anything else was more likely to work!"

Her face contorts in a bitter snarl. "And now you've as good as doomed us all. If you don't have the guts to end the gods before they learn about you, then it's only a matter of time before someone in your organization lets their curiosity override their sense and tries to contact the Brothers Grimm, at which point your entire civilization is subject to destruction at their whims. And before you tell me they wouldn't dare, you'd better be confident that in a billion years not one single person would take the risk, for any reason. Unless I've badly misjudged your holier-than-thou empire, you don't have that kind of control over your people." 

They could, of course, if Siobhan's testimony about mind alterations is to be believed, but they don't seem to have the will to actually use that power. 

(Deep down, a part of her is screaming in horror at the thought. Why? The stakes are too high to worry about such trivial details, she made her peace with that long ago - sacrifices must be made, only the final victory matters -)

"Ozpin was not quite that definitive in his advice. I don't think the situation was fully comparable anyway, you were known to be actively involved with things. Our presence would have become known to you in short order. We may have accelerated that timeline but I don't think it was actually that risky and it allowed us to safely collect information that was ultimately crucial in our planning. Also you might be interested to know that he was actually supportive of us bringing you back like this.

As for approaching the Brother Gods, I can't deny we might eventually reach in that direction, billions of years is a long time. Neither of us has lived that long. As for how much control we have over our members that's.... a complicated question. My working group has broad emergency powers in your realm for the moment that grants us a great deal of latitude but those won't be renewed indefinitely. Even separate from that there's currently an injunction against contacting the Brother Gods. That could also be repealed at some point, I can't offer guarantees on that point, but while it lasts people will be watching to make sure nobody breaks it. That's a significant part of how Starlight works. Somebody is always watching when it matters."

Ozpin wasn't - he supported - then what did he say? The smart thing to do would be to make her look insane or evil - it wouldn't have been hard, would it - didn't he always?

Wasn't that why so few joined her cause, in all those years? Ozpin's lies?

Is Siobhán lying now? 

She waits. The answer will come to her, as it always does. She knows the shape of it, the outline, knows it so well that she can trace its exact contours in her mind. Of course Ozpin would want this, so he could feel superior...Of course she lies, she wishes to manipulate me, how droll... But the shape is a void, an absence, a suggestion of itself. Once, it would have thundered in her mind. The absence feels like falling. 

She was certain, once. Answers came easy. What happened? 

The gods. She must contest Siobhán's claims. Emergency powers won't last - the watchers grow weary, the eyes must blink - they could not react quickly enough - 

She opens her mouth to protest. Instead, she whispers, "...what have you done to me?" 

"The only thing we've done," she says in a low gentle voice, "is to undo the transformation you underwent all those years ago when you were exposed to the pool of darkness. I imagine it's quite the change and you had a long time to get used to living like that."

In ten million years, she had never once tried to undo it. 

Falling, falling...

It would had been impossible to reverse, of course. But she had never even tried. She needed the power. Needed to control the Grimm, to harness them, to wield them in pursuit of victory. Nothing else mattered. 

Really? Who was controlling whom?

The pit yawned before her, the void unfilled. 

Falling, falling, falling.

She had needed its strength. Its certainty. If she lost it - lost the surety of the Darkness, the ruthless drive to succeed - if her conviction faltered, even for a moment - the things she had done - what she had suffered - endured - inflicted - 

She sinks to the ground, insensate, shaking, head in hands. What is this? I haven't - not since - I don't understand - 

For the first time in ten million years, Salem cries. 

This... is probably a sign that their plan worked... it still doesn't feel good to see a confident person break. She's probably the wrong person to be here but someone Salem has never met wouldn't be better. She fluidly takes a seat on the ground with crossed legs, she doesn't otherwise approach though. And she waits, nothing is urgent.

The uncontrollable sobbing lasts for a long, long time. 

Eventually, Salem falls asleep. 

Siobhán nods to herself, with a flex of control she dulls Salem's senses and reformats the room so Salem is tucked into a bed. She dims the lights then adds a nightstand beside the bed with a glass of water, a pen and a note:

Salem,

I hope you slept well, if you want food or would like me to return you can write a message on the back of this note.

The switch beside the bed controls the lights.

Take as much time as you need,

Siobhán

Salem wakes groggy and utterly confused. Something must have destroyed her body, something faster than she could react to - one of the old Dust bombs? No, she had protections against those in her fortress. Someone else? 

She sits up (what?), eyes puffy and sore, throat parched (what? what?) in a, something, a bed, she has them for visitors but never bothered to - 

It comes back to her in a sudden flash, the memory of everything landing with an impossible weight. She shrieks aloud, gripping the sheets - bed! sheets! - in white-knuckled terror. 

Starlight. Silver eyes. Death. Failure. Rebirth. Siobhán. Ozpin. Void. Falling. 

Shattering, like glass, on emptiness. 

Some time later, she notices the note. 

Her first thought is, That's ridiculous. I don't even need to eat. 

Right on cue, her stomach growls. She looks down in utter bewilderment. 

...right. Grimm. Not...anymore. 

First things first. She picks up the glass of water from the nightstand. Her hands are shaking. Liquid sloshes onto the stand, the note, the bed. She flinches. She takes a deep, shuddering breath. She can handle a gods-blasted cup of water, it's only been a geological eon since her last one, thank you very not...

She manages a few hasty gulps, chokes, coughs, slows down. Sips what's left. Did water always taste like this? She's not sure. She hadn't bothered with it since...Ozma...the children...

After a while, she looks down again. She must have dropped the glass. She stares at its shards on the floor. They remind her of one of her more painful attempts, long ago, in a body not so different from this one. Before the war, before she'd lost everything. No - after, really. 

It hadn't worked. Nothing ever did. When the gods decided to punish, they were very, very thorough. 

She remembers the cold fury, the righteous rage at their unfairness. The coldness is gone now, but the fury remains, somehow comforting in its familiar embrace. But it is a double-edged comfort, the comfort of blankets on a cold winter morning, with the hearth extinguished and the knowledge that soon, very soon, one will have to get up and face the bitter chill alone and exposed. 

What have I done?

Perhaps she would dwell on it forever, sitting there alone and powerless, if she could; letting fury war with guilt until all their pent-up munitions had been spent, further wrecking her broken mind. It certainly seems like she might, at first. In the end, it is hunger that calls ceasefire. Even that might not have been enough. She wonders, idly, if she ought just wait for starvation to set in, see what happens - but that had never worked either. 

She could try to salvage some scrap of dignity, but she just doesn't have the energy. She manages to scrawl I'm hungry on the back of the recently-dried and crinkly note, sets it aside, and waits. 

About half a minute later there's a knock on the door.

Now this presents something of a problem. Her magic is gone, she can't just wave the doors open dramatically anymore. She'd open it herself, but Salem barely trusts herself to stand, right now. After all, she apparently hasn't eaten in a few million years. How can she get the door open when she's still too wobbly to - 

Oh. Right. 

"E-enter," she rasps, folding her still-shaking hands over the sheets in what she hopes is a dignified posture. Even if the door's locked, it's not like that would stop a Starlight envoy. 

What enters is not Siobhán, the door swings gently open and a metallic dining cart, with a calico cat sitting on it, wheels its way in. There's also a spread of pastries, fruit and granola and pitchers of juice and water. Then the cat talks. "Hello, would you like breakfast in bed? Oh, you dropped a glass, would you like me to clean that up?"

The talking cat shouldn't faze her. It really shouldn't. She's had two-headed snakes, floating tentacle orbs, and flying skull gorillas at her beck and call for millennia. 

She gapes at it. 

Eventually, "...y-yes. Both." 

The cat nods then stares intently at the mess on the floor. The glass shards pull themselves together and the now intact glass follows the cat's gaze to land on the trolley. Then the trolley rolls forward and the top lifts up on a previously concealed mechanism and swings out to be positioned over her lap. "There you go, all set. Do you need anything else?"

"This...place. Siobhán said it was a virtual world. Is that why I can't use my magic?" She worked with Starlight long enough to know about their instanced virtual worlds, but everything still feels so real. 

"Most magic doesn't work in virtual worlds. I could ask for specifics about yours if you want."

That...wasn't actually a yes, but it implied so. Would the talking cat deceive her? Does she really have any clue, at this point? 

"Can I...leave?" Do I want to? 

Why isn't she sure? 

The cat tilts its head. "I'm not sure what you mean, you haven't gone through orientation so things might be confusing but you're free to wander the dream if you'd like. Some areas won't be open to you with the flags you're marked with of course. If you mean exiting the dream you would need to apply to have the dream bound flag removed."

...so it's a prison, then. Hardly surprising. It would be difficult to influence the tide of events in Remnant from within Starlight's servers, but perhaps it would not be impossible. Whispers in the correct ears, the right secrets dispensed at the right time. The picture comes to her as easily as breathing; a familiar web of fears, deceptions, and half-truths, sowed ever so subtly, culminating in...what? 

She's shaking again. 

Breathe. 

"Orientation? Flags?"

"People new to the dream need to learn how things work and decide how they want to relate to the underlying systems. That's what orientation is for. Flags are information people can see about you if they look for it. You can control some of the flags but others are set by various authorities. The specific ones I was referring to are the warnings about your past behavior and the linked dream bound flag that was applied as a result."

"And who...what...exactly...are you?" This comes out a bit more incredulous than Salem intends. 

"I'm not a person just a sophisticated piece of automation intended to provide a friendly interface."

Did they think she would be more comfortable interacting with a false-life creature than a person, given her history with the Grimm? For that matter, was she? Or was it so they wouldn't have to interact with her? Could she blame them, if so? 

Flags. Past behavior. 

That's one way of putting it. 

Well, at least she knows how to interact with an automaton. "Take me through orientation," Salem states, sounding more certain than she feels. Her stomach rumbles; the food smells too good. "...after I eat," she appends. 

"Oh, I'm not designed for that, that's important enough for a person to do. Siobhán Ionbhá will be handling that, I can call her for you when you're done. I could also file a request to have someone else assigned if you don't like her."

Having only one contact to the outside world is potentially disadvantageous to her objectives - her personal comfort must be subordinate to the mission of saving Remnant from itself - she should request another - 

"...Siobhán is acceptable." 

Now: food. She hasn't eaten in forever, but that doesn't mean she's forgotten how. She hopes. 

Breakfast is unfairly delicious. 

When she's done inhaling it, she says, "I'm ready for orientation." 

The cat clears away the dishes and the cart carries them and the dishes away. 

It only takes about a minute and a half after that for Siobhán to arrive.

"Good morning, I hope you slept well." She's smiling.

"I believe I did," Salem says. The truth of the words surprises her. She had stopped sleeping long, long ago; it was a needless indulgence. Or was it the dreams...?

Focus.

"You're here to tell me about this virtual world?" 

"I'm glad and yes, I am. Would you prefer I give you the standard explanations or would you like to ask questions and have me bring up anything that didn't get covered afterwards?"

"The standard first, I think." Whatever Starlight's flaws, their standard of care has been thorough enough to earn her respect. 

And it's not like I have any idea where to start, anyway...

Yes, it was best to let Siobhán lead this one. 

"Alright. The dream is a collection of constructed realms that are where about half of our population spends the majority of their time. More than seventy percent of our populace at least visits with the remainder being mostly people who only count as our population as a technicality with the remainder being people who have various philosophical objections.

As the dream is constructed rather than natural a lot of things which would just be facts of life are instead customizable. If you want it's fairly easy to change your body in various ways. You can choose how you want to access certain sorts of information like the people's flags, background information about an area and the like. And you can set preferences about how automation works in realms that support that.

Different realms have their own rules some social and some enforced by simply being impossible to break. I think that's the very basic summary covered would you like to ask any questions before I move on?"

"Can you give some examples of rules in this realm?" 

"This realm is one of the many copies of a template called arrival, one of its rules is that it's completely impossible to physically injure another person without their prior agreement. You can't cut their skin or apply force past certain limits and if someone is stuck then they'll be able to phase through the people and objects near them."

Well, that removes a lot of options, doesn't it. 

Then why does she feel relieved? 

Well, she is a captive. Unusual for captors to tie their own hands in such a way. But, she supposes, if the prison itself is the substance the prisoners are made of, escape - or, for that matter, volition - is not really a problem, if the jailers don't want it to be. 

This unsettles her less than it should, for some reason. 

"And social rules?" 

"There's a few, give people space if they ask for it, try to be kind, don't try to convince people of things that aren't true. Generally the idea is to be accommodating to the other residents. For a lot of the people in arrival this is the first time they've lost a body and for many it wasn't under pleasant circumstances. This place is meant to make their transition to the dream as gentle as possible."

"How are social rules enforced?" 

"For most cases they aren't, if someone decides to make an issue of it though they can ask an auditor to confirm a violation and then that gets added to your flags and people can make decisions to avoid you based on that. You can petition to have those overturned if you think they're inaccurate or to have them sequestered after some time has passed and you can demonstrate that they're no longer representative of your current behavior."

All of that sounds entirely reasonable and frustratingly constraining at the same time. Oh, she's had long experience manipulating people who think they know how dangerous she is - was? - and why, but this feels different somehow. For one thing, Salem isn't sure she wants to anymore. 

She's not sure what she wants, at this point. What is there left for her to do? Moving against the gods was an uphill battle from the start. To do so from within a simulated prison, where her every thought, word, and deed could be audited - 

Salem shudders. 

A few deep breaths later - "I think I understand the basics. Please continue." 

"The usual next step is to set your interface preferences. I can also show you around to places like the local transit nexus, though depending on your preferences that could be redundant or nonsensical."

"Interface preferences?" 

"It's a general term for the ways you interact with the realm and the realm interacts with you. As an example you can choose if and how you see other people's flags. There's a lot of customizability but as a few examples you could speak a command to have them imposed on your visible field, have them always floating near people you encounter, or use an affordance like a scroll to display that information in a more diegetic fashion."

"...okay." 

"Flag display is a reasonable place to start, do you have any thoughts? People who aren't used to having things imposed on their vision tend to prefer either an invocation or something diagetic. Though my impression is that you're accustomed to having additional senses most people don't have so maybe you'd prefer something less visual."

"I want it to work like my old mag- "

" - no. I think a-a scroll would be less...distracting. It's not - others can't see what I'm looking at, if I want it obscured?" 

"Certainly, that's a common preference, most people don't like having others read over their shoulder without permission."

She produces a scroll from a pocket and hands it over it's designed to look and work like the most common model on Remnant. There's an app with an icon like a flag that provides a list of nearby and recently encountered people and an option to select any of them to look at their flags. Listed are Siobhán and feline automation subcomponent.

Salem fiddles with it for a bit before finding a setting that seems natural. "Thank you. What else?" 

She has a goal now, if a simplistic one. Get through orientation. Think other thoughts later. 

"There's a rather long list of possibilities most of them have pretty reasonable defaults. Given that you selected an multifunction affordance the settings on your scroll will let your customize everything. There's a few that I think are important to highlight though. In realms like Arrival, you can set a block list of people who you don't want to encounter and also how intrusive you want the world to be about enforcing that. In the least intrusive settings it will provide you with a warning before you'd encounter them to give you a chance to avoid them, in the medium settings most people use it will make it so you won't encounter them unless there's a shared social event you were both invited to and give you warning in those cases. In the most intrusive settings you literally won't be able to notice or interact with each other even if in a more physically constrained world you would be forced to. Similarly there's a setting that defaults to fairly strict about how reliably things remain in the same relative locations. The default keeps the changes to about the level you might expect from people redecorating and renovating spaces in a physical realm while the most permissive level basically allows reality to rearrange itself at will to be more convenient to you and the people around you."

The interaction settings seem cute. She immediately thinks of half a dozen ways to exert hostile influence on someone in an environment of mutual imperceptibility. She takes quick and shallow breaths until the thoughts fade. 

The trouble with the "getting through orientation" plan is that it keeps expecting her to have preferences about things that aren't death, gods, or Grimm. Well - she's been able to reshape her environs and servants to her convenience for most of her existence. But for some reason, thinking about that makes her hands shake and her vision blur. She elects to keep things strictly lawful. 

"What happens when two people with different reality-warping settings are in a room together?" 

"Arrival generally doesn't change things where people are currently looking so it wouldn't come up standing in the same room but if they went for a walk together it would maintain consistency to the level of the person with the highest preference for it until they separated. Some minor cheats would still be allowed like someone pulling an item out of a purse or pocket that wasn't previously there. There's also a preference that has the realm notify you when things like that happen in your vicinity."

A fuzzy system with significant potential for loopholes if properly exploited - 

Breathe.

"I think I understand. Please continue."

"I think I've covered what's critical now it's more about less critical things. This is a good time for a break if you're feeling overwhelmed. Otherwise as I mentioned there's a lot of minor things you can change if you want, generally you can customize most of your experience of this realm. You could change things to be quieter or louder for example. I could also show you some nearby points of interest if you'd like... given your expressed preference for consistency if you say what you'd like to have nearby before we go looking then it will be nearby insofar as that's possible without breaking consistency for other people."

No, no, she is not feeling overwhelmed right now, she is not feeling anything right now, because if she were to acknowledge feeling anything of the sort, she would spend the next week curled up in her! bed! and gibbering and not in any way making progress toward her long-term goals. 

Such as they are.

The hole-where-her-conviction-once-lay yawns especially deep, and she wrenches her thoughts from its edge. 

"What...are some points of interest?" 

"A transit nexus is one of the more universal ones, from there you can get to other parts of this realm or other realms within the dream quickly. Though honestly there's around half a million realms at this point so it's kinda overwhelming if you don't know where you're going in advance. Still good to know where it is. Otherwise, there's Spas which are great for massages or otherwise relaxing, parks which are large outdoor areas crafted to evoke different emotions from relaxation to excitement, communal kitchens which tend to have premade food available and also the facilities to make food yourself, and also bath houses with both private and communal spaces for bathing."

"That sounds..." utterly useless, aside from the transit hub and maybe kitchens, "...pleasant." Massages? Really? Physical touch is a way of establishing dominance, not relaxing. (Isn't it?) 

"How does one pay for these services?" Indentured servitude, perhaps. Maybe Starlight aren't as nauseatingly saccharine as they pretend to be. But her heart's not in the thought. 

"You don't. Just about everything that's unpleasant is automated and otherwise people do things because they like doing them. Even things like the community kitchens somebody cooks a dish once and they can make as many copies of it as they want to."

"What do people...do?" 

"There are roughly four categories, generally people switch between categories over time. Some people spend the majority of their time on leisure, rarely people will spend their whole lives that way. The next group is roughly summarized as personal touch, those are things which could be automated but tend to be a bit more vibrant when they aren't, that includes stuff like massages, and food where automation can fill the gap if demand exceeds supply. The first really big group is creatives, they'll write books, draw art, design parks, make music, the list is pretty long... some competitions also fall into that category, the ones without practical applications. The final category is nearly as large and that's community service. It's a big tent that includes everything from providing therapy, to working as an archivist or researcher, to helping with one of the ongoing wars, to doing exploration and diplomacy work like me, and of course the competitions with practical applications."

"One of the...this is a wartime economy?"

"Wars like most things are heavily automated. The hard parts of war are mostly overall strategy and continued research and development neither of those are things majorly improved by masses of people. The influx of refugees is also an issue but when it gets too much we can generally put most of the former drones we haven't integrated yet into stasis."

"Former...drones?" 

"One of the groups we're at war with forcibly merges people they encounter into their hive mind. They treat individual members as effectively disposable and this has led several local polities to label their members drones. We do our best to separate people from the hive mind instead of killing them and the term we've ended up using is former drones. Given how thoroughly the Borg tend to conquer there usually aren't people or places for the former drones to go back to so we're more comfortable putting them into stasis than people with more social links."

"And stasis is expected to last...until the war ends?" 

"Hopefully not, but we'll see it all depends on how quickly the war goes and how fast we can expand our capacity to help them adjust to being outside the collective. We're also researching how to create smaller hive minds safely because many former drones are uncomfortable being fully individual. Honestly, our biggest worry is that according to our estimates their population is greater than ours so if they all end up joining they could significantly reshape our social structures. Fortunately, we expect that many groups will want to reclaim their previous planets and otherwise have little to do with us beyond some help getting started."

Once again, she seems to have underestimated the scope and capabilities of this organization. Perhaps they do stand a chance against the Brothers Grimm. 

That is what she wanted, isn't it? 

Salem shuts down that line of thinking.

She has a few more questions about the technical aspects of "the dream" and its various interfaces and options. Conspicuously absent is any line of questioning about where to meet other people. 

Siobhán is quite willing to answer Salem's questions, she does note the absence but that's okay these things take time.

Eventually: "Thank you. I think I'd like some time to myself, now." 

"Of course, let me know if you need anything." She walks out of the room and gently closes the door behind her.

Salem sits in silence for a time, absorbing the enormity of what has happened - or trying, at least. Somehow, the mental resources she once would have marshalled in this situation now elude her grasp. 

And why is that? Because my enemies crippled me, wishing to remove me from the equation, or so they thought. But they were unwilling to finish the deed. Such weakness will serve them ill in a war against the gods, but it can be exploited. Oh yes, it can be exploited. They believe themselves safe; best to let them, for now. I can be patient - oh so very patient - play along, justify their feeling of security. Use their weakness. Give them clues about the Grimm, ways to undo what has been done, to contain the intelligent ones. Keep them busy. Gain trust, and freedom to act. 

When the time is right - 

- then what? What power could she hope to gain, through Starlight, that they could not themselves mimic in time? 

But they lack the will to use it. They will not do what is necessary. 

Wouldn't they? They ended her. They only saved her mind because, frankly, without her powers she is just another vanquished mortal. 

A foolish judgment. One day, they shall regret it. 

But why? What purpose does it serve? 

My purpose. What else matters?

But that is not an answer anymore. 

Without me, humanity is lost. 

Is that still the most likely outcome? 

The gods will end them all. 

So would she have done, to win. Are they really all that different? These long years playing the villain, the shadow that lingers on the edge of civilization, the hunger in the night - why - 

It must be me! It must be me who kills the gods!

Why? Why?!

In thousands of years, not one other person has truly understood the goal, the necessity of it, the sheer importance - only I had the will and drive to execute the plan, it had to be me - 

This Starlight organization seems to treat the threat with the gravity it deserves - 

They are weak-hearted fools! They cannot do what must be done! Oh sure, they play the benevolent saviors, but they are as corrupt and useless as people always are - 

How does she know that? Starlight is more powerful, has more resources, and doesn't revere the gods. They successfully replicated silver eyes! In a few weeks, they managed a feat that she spent centuries trying to achieve.  Is it really so hard to believe they might succeed? And if nothing else matters - then why care how it happens, so long as humanity survives? Wasn't that always the goal?

Wasn't it...?

She may be closer than ever to accomplishing her goal. Why does this feel so much like defeat? 

Time passes. Salem eats, sleeps, wanders the dream; and for perhaps the first time in as long as she can remember, tries not to think.

She dreams of Grimm, and when she wakes, she is shocked to see pale human skin instead of living darkness. 

The hole that once held conviction yawns, empty and deep. She circles its edge like a shattered moon, whispering to herself in its shadow. 

Why imprison me here, in this pathetic land of...talking cats, saccharine therapists, and nothing useful whatsoever? What end does it serve? Why bother if no one in any of these gods-blasted simulated worlds is producing anything of value?

Am I going to spend the rest of eternity trapped in a prison made of candy? 

Does she want to? 

What does she want? Her overriding drive in life for nearly as long as she can remember was to kill the Brothers Grimm. Trapped in a world of massages and community kitchens, that is looking like a more and more remote impossibility than it ever was. She can barely remember ever wanting anything else, at least not in comparison. 

To see Ozma suffer. 

No! That was never - 

It was. Always. 

She casts about, desperate to escape from insight. There has to be something else she wanted - anything else - ever - 

Oh. 

"Could I...speak to Siobhán again?" she asks the cat, next mealtime. She could probably make her request of the automaton, but...it doesn't feel right, somehow.

Perhaps it's the fear that having her last hope denied by a mindless servant would be simply too much to bear. Not that she thinks it in so many words. 

It's a couple hours before Siobhán arrives, when she does she's smiling as usual. She knocks at the door and when Salem lets her in she says "Hello, you wanted to see me?"

"Why did you - why did Starlight - bring me back?" 

"I've never met anyone who wasn't important, who wasn't worth trying to save. For you specifically, I'll confess that it's not just about saving you, if it was we would be having this conversation a century after your death instead of three weeks. We hope you can help us understand things faster than we could without you. Possibly with less harm done along the way."

In other words, to use me...

Oh, shut up. 

Salem's eyes shut involuntarily, and she shudders. It takes a minute, but she forces them open again. She still can't quite look Siobhán in the eye, though. Her breath comes in quick gasps. 

"What if...I told you...I wanted to die?" 

"That would be sad, and I would ask what about your life is both so painful and so unlikely to change since that's usually what it takes for someone to want that. If we couldn't find a way to fix that though we would let you. Choosing an ending is an important right. Forced immortality is a cruel thing."

a cruel thing

For so long, she had told herself - not a punishment, but a mistake - they would regret giving her time - 

It's been so long since she allowed it to hurt. 

Salem breaks down, sobbing. 

Siobhán sits down on a chair and waits.

It's only a few minutes, this time. The silence lasts a bit longer. 

So many years spent desperately hoping for a way out, an ending. Before the depths of Grimm, before the Darkness claimed her, it was all she wanted. Hopeless, despairing, against an immutable cruelty the world refused to see, she wandered, an exile from time. It is ages past now, long eclipsed by hate and brooding fervor, but she could not forget those days if she tried. 

And now - after all that time, after all that suffering - a chance to finally end it. 

After all the reasons to do so were gone. 

The gods - not unconquerable, no longer blindly followed. Ozma - alive, if ever he might forgive her. Herself - what? Where does she stand, now? 

What life does she live, when it is hers again? With choice so long denied, what does she now choose?

Eventually, Salem takes a deep breath. "I want to help," she says. "Tell me how."