[There's a crackling throughout the Tower's staircase and--painfully--the power comes back on. A moment later, all of the glamour goes back up: everything and everyone looks the way it should, although the food remains nutrition bars and water.

And then Ruana's voice comes on over the network. It's low, sleepy--furious.]

You broke it. You broke it! How could you! How could you! After everything--and now--and now--

[She laughs, though it's not a pleasant sound.]

You're all going to die in one year, you know. For real. Everything will turn off, and you'll all die when I can't maintain you anymore. Maybe I'll send you back before that, and let you all walk around your ruined wastelands for the rest of eternity. Or maybe I won't. Maybe I'll let you die here.

But for now... [Another, high-pitched giggle.]

My darlings, let's play a game.

[While this recording is open for comments, Ruana will not be responding.]

*It's a recorded video. Enoch stands before the terminal. He eyes the screen before taking a breath and beginning to speak.*

Shall I tell you a tale, Animus?

In another world, there was a dark and foreboding tower with no name, ruled by seven Fallen Angels. Heaven sent a man to capture these rulers, but in the three hundred years this man searched for them, the Tower built its own story. Inside the Tower, people thrived, and enjoyed a life of luxury and abundance in beautiful, otherworldly lands. Each level was as its own world, and had beauty all its own. Even the land of cold steel and eternal lights was breathtaking in an eerie way. But all was not as wonderful as it seemed. The people lived luxurious lives surrounded by beauty and wonders, yes, but when they died, their souls did not ascend to Heaven. They were taken from their rightful course and sent to The Darkness, to sate the gluttony of the demon prince Belial. No one seemed to know this but Belial himself and a resident of the Tower named Ishtar. Ishtar heard the voice of God, and knew that the Fallen Angels were not to be trusted - she gathered followers. It meant severing their connection to the safe and the familiar, to spurn the luxury of trust and plenty and ease of life. It meant turning their rulers against them. But...

*Enoch pulls something from his pocket - something small. Those who look hard enough might be able to catch a faint green glow before he closes his fingers around it, and a strong female voice speaks.*

They became the Freemen. The Fallen Angels became angry and rebuked us. I knew then that God's Word was true.

*Enoch's fist lowers, and he continues.*

But the Freemen knew the truth. Ishtar died in battle against the children of the Fallen Angels, who were in such misery they ate one another to end their brothers' pain. But she left behind prophecies. Messages that outlived her, to aid the Freemen that had sworn to follow her. The prophecies promised Ishtar would return to save them, but until then, they had to work hard to survive when those who were as gods in the realm were against them. And then, when the time came, they surely would not stand by while the resurrected Ishtar fought alone.

That is the story of the Freemen, a story that I did not know of until my own intersected it. Do not forget, Animus, that there are always stories other than your own. Thank you for hearing me.

*The recording ends, showing Enoch sitting at the terminal, feed live to hear responses.*

[After his response to Ruana, the almost disturbingly composed Waver with his mercury maid behind him decided to address the network himself.]

I'll make this clear: I don't give a flying multiverse-traveling fuck how real or fake it is, I will give damn near anything for a cigarette right now.

[Either he'd gone completely insane or just snapped into harsh sarcasm and irritation as a defense mechanism.]