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Richard is blandly inquisitive, not offended-seeming. Still you hesitate. "Uh... it was... I was dreaming. And, um..." The get-well card is discarded in front of you. You reach out and tap the front of it. "...that thing gave it to me. Um, it was less cute than this, though. More spiny. And I, um—"
"When did this happen?"
"While you were..." You gesture. "...dead...?"
"I should've guessed. Well, let's see here. The Herald of the Bright Epoch came to you in a dream and performed a physical alteration upon you. Is that an accurate assessment of what happened?"
"Um, it also said some things. And it showed up again later, while God was dissecting me— so I wouldn't be scared. It gave me hot chocolate, except I wasn't sure if maybe it had bugs in it, or something, because it was a lizard, and I thought maybe lizards liked drinking bugs...? But it didn't have bugs in it. I think."
"God?" says Richard.
"You remember that, right? I was on the heist, and I went underground, except I got sucked through that seal... and the seal was sealing, um, a hole to God? Except I thought it was a big eyeball, except Henry told me later that was actually God. So I guess I saw God. And you tugged me up with that rope...?"
"...Yes. I remember." Richard taps his ash out. "Quite an adventure. Your strings have been crunched into the size of a fist or so, if you were unaware."
"Huh?"
"You are packed to maximum efficiency, meaning <span class="mu-i">very</span> densely. You are now causing minor-but-measurable distortions in the paths of other strings. I would imagine God was responsible for this, because I certainly wasn't, and it doesn't seem to be impacting your functioning." He tilts his head. "A curiosity. You are fairly lucky you weren't just vaporized."
"That's the only thing you have to say about it?"
"I don't know what to make of it, Charlie. I don't know what to make of a mythological figure appearing to you and offering you hot chocolate and performing renovations on your mouth. These things simply do not happen. I believe you—" He raises a hand. "—but they do not happen."
Your eyes flick to the card. "A mythological figure?"
"The Herald doesn't exist. Or it hasn't been born yet, depending on your school of thought. It is like... one of your books. Yes? It descends from the heavens and ushers us all into a new golden age. It is a symbol, or a— a mascot, I suppose you'd call it." Richard raises his eyebrows. "But I will reemphasize that it does not exist, because <span class="mu-i">everyone</span> would know if it existed."
"And yet," you say.
"And yet. I will say again, these things do not happen. And yet."
"Well," you venture, "perhaps I am... special? Chosen from birth? I do have a magyckal bloodline, and, um... well, I <span class="mu-i">am</span> a heroine, and on a quest, and..."
(3/4?)
