Something sets a gnarled, six-finged hand on her shoulder, its knuckles clicking and cracking. The smell of dead autumn leaves washes over her.

What. She immediately swings the (hardcover, thousand-page) book up and over her head, attempting to bash the face of whatever's behind her.

Another hand with far too many knuckles catches the book, forcing it back down to her desk. An amused voice slithers over her shoulder, accompanied by the scent of rotting flowers.

"Would you rather see your most hated enemy killed, or publicly humiliated?"

She turns to look.

"What are you?" There's a tremble in her voice, despite her best efforts.

The thing is made of solid smoke, with too many fingers and too many knuckles. It has no mouth, but manages to grin at her anyway. 

"An answer for an answer. That is the Law."

Her jaw clenches several times.

"Killed."

"I am a Shadow, a Servant of Nemesis. I am made of the bones of the dead, animated by an evil from outside Creation, risen to oppose the Creator." 

The Shadow not-grins at her again, coils of its shadow-stuff shifting and writhing.

"Are you better than Genghis Khan, or worse than him?"

Okay. She hasn't taken any drugs or eaten anything that someone could have slipped something into. This is unlikely to be a hallucination. Servant of Nemesis? The Greek goddesss? Doesn't fit with opposing the Creator, singular, and she's pretty sure Nemesis had no jurisdiction over the dead. What the fuck.

"That question doesn't make any sense."

"Better or worse. One or the other. Lie or reject the question if you wish." The shadow seems to relish the prospect.

"You haven't told me what metric I'm supposed to judge by. I can't answer the question without knowing that. If this is supposed to be some sort of spooky personality test, I don't think very much of your methodology."

"No answer, then."

The shadow flicks out one clawed finger and marks a black line in the air next to it. 

"You come into possession of a prize slave. Do you keep them for yourself, or sell them on?"

"Keep. What are the consequences of not answering?"

The shadow shrugs. "I choose your answer for you. Would you rather steal a valuable necklace, or a bottle of rare brandy?"

"Necklace. What are you going to do with my answers?"

"I will use them to determine the choices offered to you, according to the Law. A close friend of yours betrays you, but you turn the tables and have them at your mercy. They beg forgiveness, claiming they have learned their lesson. Do you spare them, or destroy them?"

"Destroy them. What will I be choosing?"

"You will choose a new life in a new world. You come into possession of a deadly but highly illegal poison. Do you use it as soon as possible, or hold it in reserve for the right moment?"

"Reserve. What if I don't want to?"

"It doesn't matter."

The shadow watches her face carefully.

"Would you rather live in a world where you had a life of perfect ease, or a world where everyone venerated you as a deity?" 

She doesn't answer this one right away.

"Deity. What do you get out of it?"

"People in Creation that the Creator did not make."

The shadow narrows its eyes. 

"You become friends with a highly placed official, and eventually discover that they were responsible for a horrible wrong done to you in the past. Do you keep them as your 'friend' so you can continue using the power of their position, or immediately begin working to destroy them?"

"Destroy them. What do I get to choose about the new life?"

"That depends on the answers you give. You're running a covert organization, and one of your best assets has been captured by your enemies. They know nothing that could implicate you, but they are both loyal and effective. Do you put yourself at risk by mounting a rescue attempt?"

"Context," she snarls. "Yes. What are the potential options I will have?"

"Too varied and detailed for me to be obliged to list them all. Is well-meaning incompetence at one's duty a sin?"