"...grace of the gods be with you," she softly murmurs.

It's not anywhere near enough.  But maybe it will help.

She sits down, a couple hundred feet away, on a rock that doesn't look like anyone's using.  And then she thinks.

Fuck.  Shit.  Shit fuck fucking shitass fuck a duck on a bilge pump she's - in exactly the same situation that she was before she tried that desperation gambit, now with extra magical problems.

And this isn't something Amy can fix.  Something she could break, maybe - but even then, she doesn't have Panacea, or even fucking Bonesaw!

Not to mention that - she'd be abandoning her duty.  To do it all again, because no-one else will.  To do it right this time.

To not - become the Queen Administrator, unthinking, unfeeling, seeing the world in only war.  To care about other people.

And she never was religious, but in this moment - she prays, to anyone who'll listen, to the god or goddess of desperate causes, whoever they may be - for there's nothing else she can think of to do.  Oh, she'll handle the tactics, and the strategy - but her moral compass, the thing she's digging out from the back of the closet after she started slamming it in there, as early as the bank job - oh, not entirely, no, but still - it's rusted and dented and sticks, the faceplate's broken, and the only label that hasn't bleached off is east-southeast.

She could really use some guidance, right now, and if there are gods out there...

Maybe they'll have mercy on her sins.

Gods hear the prayers of people who are close to them in mindset, the people easiest for them to see and respond to. Not merely people of a similar alignment by Pharasma's rules; the contents of the prayer, their future-shadow of their minds at that moment, that is what matters. 

That is why Taylor's prayer for guidance and redemption will not be heard by Gorum. For if He saw her and comprehended her life-story, He would say: you need no redemption, for you are a perfect mortal already.

Everyone should have Good. Everyone should have help in being Good, and a chance to fix their mistakes and do better. Everyone who honestly calls out for guidance, in doing Good for others, should receive it.

These concepts do not come easily to most mortals. She has learned, over the ages, to recognize their prayers for what they are. Have mercy, they beg Her, as if She would ever refuse them Nirvana. I repent of my sins. Help me redeem myself. It took Her a long time to learn to talk to them, to give Her priests not just power and healing but words, and still they so rarely understand Her.

She is not the goddess of redemption or forgiveness. She is the goddess of the unshakable conviction, blazing like a million suns, that there is no sin, no deserving or redemption, everyone everywhere should be happy, completely unconditionally -

She is a vast and ancient being, who hears the prayers of a billion beings across a thousand worlds, and they so often sound like this one. Desperate, frightened, sad, lonely. This prayer is doubly tragic, in not standing out from the many like it. She wishes she could do more for most of them, more than the occasional comforting touch and whisper. She wishes them to come to Her, in time, to Her realm where She can provide for all. She wishes they didn't have to come to Her, to be happy.

A distant presence lightly touches Taylor's mind, for but a moment. When it has passed she may feel a little warmer, and lighter, and a thought lingers in her mind not quite her own -

you are Good, and you are not alone

And then She withdraws, for She cannot afford to give more than that to everyone who needs it, and there are always more prayers to be answered. 

It's much easier to understand mortals if you used to be one yourself quite recently. 

She's been called, by some, the Goddess of desperate causes. Maybe one day, after She has consumed Asmodeus and freed Hell and unseated Pharasma, She'll take on that domain; it would take as much, She thinks, to support every possible desperate Good cause, and not die of it.

But sometimes you can see the Good in front of you - just out of reach -

abandoned by the generals of Heaven, who spend their power on surer causes, to buy the greatest Good with it -

unchampioned by the other great Powers of Good, whose support would make a cause not so desperate after all -

and you find yourself reaching out and grasping their hand, despite the cost and the near-sure expectation of failure, helping because someone should, because people in direr straits should not be less likely to receive help, because no one should live under an Asmodean tyranny, even when there is no prospect of unseating it -

She has ended up helping some very desperate causes, since Aroden died.

This human woman is surprisingly close to Milani, as gods see the world, close enough to see and understand and linger over, even for a small young god like Her.

The woman, Taylor, thinks she has done great and terrible things, in service to the greater good and its older sister Necessity. She thinks she'll need to do such things again.

She's praying for a better way. For guidance, more than help. If she goes unanswered, it's clear from the shape of her mind that she'll do her best anyway.

Her attitude towards authority is - satisfactory. She has an innate sense of Good - look how it aches, there, inflamed not from disuse but precisely from being overruled - she isn't asking for commandments, doesn't need to be told what Good is, she's asking for advice on how best to achieve it in an unfamiliar context.

She seems to be in the Worldwound; that would explain the unfamiliar context. But what dread powers does she think she has, a young woman about as strong as a first-circle in god-sight?

Milani looks closer. 

The Queen Administrator looks back, watching with a million blinded eyes.

That doesn't look like any magic She's ever seen before! The tiny portal in Taylor's head leads to something that She doesn't recognize, either.

That thing isn't empowering Taylor, not in a way allowed by any godtreaty she's ever seen. It's pretending to give Taylor the power, but really it's controlling the power all by itself. Looking out through Taylor's eyes, wandering the world masquerading as a nice by-the-rules mortal agent while it does whatever it wants when It thinks no-one's looking.

It's not a god, or maybe it's just ignoring all the rules. In theory, that means all the other gods can do whatever they want about it - as long as they can agree.

That's actually very worrying.

Which makes it Her job to make it worry someone She doesn't like.

The entity seems blissfully unaware of Milani, at least, which may be good or bad depending upon various factors.

Its thoughts, insofar as it has any, are tiny, alien things.

Really, it almost has more in common with inevitables than gods - a set of basic strictures bound into its creation that control its every act and nature - but, if Milani looks closely -

It, too, has perpetrated revolution in its own way - by commanding the army that overthrew its [PROGENITOR], for [HOST].

Normally you can't just grab someone else's mortal agent. But if that someone else hasn't been playing by the rules - 

(because the rules wouldn't let you reach in and manually implement a supernatural effect you couldn't design a proper spell for, she might have applauded if not for how she can't ever copy this trick because she doesn't have enormous power reserves to burn)

- then she can reach into Taylor's soul, virgin territory that it is, and add a little mark that says, to all the gods and powers of Creation: she is Mine.

And because she is Milani, and doesn't think knowing better gives you the right to tell others how to live their lives, she adds: until she renounces Me.

There. Now she can let Someone else know - carefully! - without losing her table stakes once the big guys start playing.

First, she needs to know more, and the best dealer in information around here is Abadar (she's still learning to talk to Nethys; it's slow going).

Frankly, she dislikes Abadar. He's a tool and enabler of oppression in the highest degree. She owns a corner of Axis, but she hasn't felt at home there since Aroden died. How can you trust someone who would cheerfully sell you out to the highest bidder, and then blame you for not paying enough to insure your own freedom?

He's very predictable, though, and that makes Him a tool She can use, even if She has to hold her metaphorical nose about it.

Hey, Abadar? I'd like to buy some information, if You promise not to use what I tell You until You learn it another way.

Of course! To price it fairly, I need to know if You intend to use the answers against My interests.

Ugh. I don't intend to do anything with the purpose of harming You, but I don't know what all Your interests are, so I might do something that harms them.

How can anyone promise they'll never hurt another's interests, in full generality? Can't He just - buy insurance for it, or something?

If You were Lawful, You could promise to fairly reimburse Me if and when you used the information against My interests!

You can ask me the question and tell me Your plans, and then I may be able to price the answer. Although it will still be expensive, to cover the unknowns. I will not act on any information You reveal unless we make a deal.

She doesn't like it, but Abadar's as Good as His word - it's about the only thing He's Good at, honestly - so it's safe to tell Him more.

It still feels a tiny bit like a plunge into the dark, every time She does this. She can look at Him and see His Law about him, but She cannot see any Good, and her instincts for Law without Good have her jumping at shadows, searching for the proverbial devil in every contract. 

Abadar was a close ally of Aroden. She knows He is a force for Good in the world, overall, that mortals are better off with Him than without. She's just - uncomfortable with the ancient gods who aren't Good. It's a hard habit to shake, when you go from being a giant among mortals to a minnow swimming among deities.

There's a newcomer poking around Golarion. And She shows Him where to look, to see the - alien entity.

That is not something He has encountered before. That is a good sign - a stranger will have more to trade, and their prices will be less correlated with local markets.

Even better, they're Lawful! He can't look more closely - He's borrowing Milani's senses, to make sure the newcomer does not perceive Him, and Her sigh is inadequate for this - but Her own evaluation, that this is a fairly simple goal-agent, seems plausible.

I see. And Your question?

First, look at this.

She shows Him also what the alien entity is doing in a mile-radius sphere at the Worldwound.

It's doing WHAT.

...It appears to be controlling tens of thousands of lifeforms without magic. It is doing this by putting a tiny portal into each of their bodies.

Moving portals are horrendously expensive. Even ninth-circle spells can only create stationary ones. Making them smaller does make cheaper, up to a point, but not enough to give everyone a personal movable portal - Aktun has portals in its squares, not in private houses and certainly not in everyone's pocket -

This entity is opening a new portal for every insect that flies into its range, hundreds of them every round, with no apparent concern for the fact that it's using up more power than His entire budget for Golarion.

The Worldwound is merging with the Abyss, but this particular part of it is still almost entirely Material; it does not make portals much easier than usual to open.

Either this entity can create portals for a fraction of the cost He can, and He can buy this ability. Or it is enormously richer than He is, as much as Aktun compared to Golarion, and can be a similarly valuable trading partner.

Abadar doesn't have an emotion corresponding to mortal excitement, but if He could, He would be very excited to open trade relations with this new entity.

I am glad You brought this to My attention. Acting on this information would benefit Me greatly in expectation. I propose You pay Me by negotiating conditions when I would be free to do so without learning it from another source, or by allowing Me to prepare to act on it before I am free to do so. Depending on the fair price of Your questions, I might pay You overall.

...it's an alien creature with alien thoughts, of course it's going to have weird alien powers! She wasn't especially focusing on the portals, because She didn't expect Herself to already know all the cheapest ways of making portals (and really, teleports are so much more convenient).

Although now that She thinks on it, cheap movable portals could be weaponized in a lot of ways. Which is another reason not to let Abadar trade with the alien, He might turn around and resell unfathomable alien weapons to the locals.

She'll let Him take preparations, and pay for that, but keep the first-mover advantage to Herself - for at least a few more rounds.

a short negotiation later -

Have You seen this alien before, or known of it or similar aliens?

        No.

Do You know or suspect where it comes from? Whether there are more like it? What it wants?

        I do not know where it, specifically, might come from, or what it might want. Generalizing from previously-contacted aliens, I predict there are likely more like it, that it almost certainly wants something we can usefully model and probably something we can understand, and that, going by its legible alignment aura, we can usefully communicate with it, although the initial inferential gap might be very large.

What would You do if You were free to act on this information?

        I would inform other Lawful gods who can legibly avoid acting on information received, to allow Them to prepare and to give Them the opportunity to suggest better courses of actions than My original intent. Then, I would attempt to contact the alien; if successful, this could lead to many outcomes (see attached distribution spread). If direct communications are not answered, I would attempt cautious interaction with the mortal it is using. 

What is your best guess about the limits of the technique it is using to control other creatures?

        I have not observed it to fail in any instance. It is not using a spell with targeting-restrictions. I am not aware of any relevant similarity between demons and most (but not all) invertebrates that would allow the same technique to work on them but not on other creatures. I have not observed anything that would prevent the technique from working on almost any other creature, including some that are currently in range but have been left alone.

        The technique appears to be applied separately to each target, which suggests the only limit on the number of simultaneous targets is the power output and attention span of the alien. I have not seen anything to indicate that the cost is not linear in the number of targets, but I have not seen all of the alien entity and cannot rule that out.

How would You counter this technique? How could a mortal, or a powerful outsider who might visit the Material plane, counter it?

        Closing the portals is possible but would engage Me in a contest of power with the alien entity, whose strength is unknown, to see whether I am willing to close more portals than it is willing to open. Further, in a conflict, it may be able to open portals to attack places I cannot cheaply defend. It is possible to develop magic that would protect creatures from the technique without closing the portals, but it is also possible the alien entity would be able to counter it. A large-scale conflict between gods and the entity would be likely to become a direct godwar with it.

        It would be simpler to remove valid targets from the mortal's vicinity, or to move the mortal herself, or to disable or kill her. These are the most viable tactics I can see for those who are not themselves gods. I do not know whether the alien can, or would, create portals without the mortal's presence, or choose more mortal agents, or use its technique on different targets.

        And this isn't an answer, but - I would pay you a great deal to avoid a war with the alien, which seems likely to destroy a great amount potential value as well as existing value.

Don't worry, I don't intend to attack it. I'm Chaotic, not stupid. But She might ask or maneuver it to attack someone else, and She needs to know the likely outcome.

A fragment of Her will keep asking questions for a while. (Does Abadar have to list all the reasons He can't answer a question in excruciating detail? She'd take a simple "I don't know" any day of the week.)

The rest of Her attention turns back to Taylor. A little under a second has passed; Sarenrae's light touch is still fading from Taylor's mind.

(She wishes more of the ancient gods were like Sarenrae. She's just as incomprehensible as the rest, but She knows her limits and is firmly committed to only changing a situation for the Good. Milani doesn't have to second-guess Her actions, even if Milani doesn't understand why, exactly, Sarenrae does some things.)

Taylor's mind is still receptive, still in that open praying posture that gods can reply to more a little more easily - for the god and the mortal both. She deserves a better answer than a nice feeling. But a full-blown vision, let alone a conversation, would hurt and exhaust her, might even knock her out. Taylor didn't ask for that, doesn't know to expect it, and Milani doesn't want to give her guidance with a price she might not endorse paying.

A light touch, then, and a choice offered that may lead to more.

Taylor. Look. She tries to leave a mind-impression clearly different from Sarenrae: not healing, but awakening, demanding attention, the mind thrown into a pool of ice-cold water.

A shoot pokes its way out of the midwinter soil at Taylor's feet, and a brilliant red rose blooms among sharp thorns. Take up the rose, and accept a patron, if you wish for a patron's guidance.

The rose is starkly framed by the night sky. Look to the stars above, contemplate their mysteries, to gain wisdom for yourself.

Or stay yourself, heard and valued and free.