93. Blessed be the Grand Queen

A/N: Hi! I'm back! My girlfriend flew out to visit over my break week and BOY am I a lot more energized now. Have a chapter! It seems my initial guess was off, though; there will be two more chapters after this chapter. I was originally going to have this chapter be waaaaaaaaaay longer and encompass quite a bit more, but I felt splitting it was the better choice after all when I got here. Enjoy!

"So. I lost, then."

The words come from a figure standing in a void, their face and body ever-shifting between painful memories. They appear as my foster brother Max, dead and mangled in the trunk of a car. Then, Anastasia, a look of panic on her face as I take an alien form in our spar.

"Everyone lost," I respond. "A blast of that size… I can't bring everyone back from that. There's no way I have every template. I doubt I'll ever even get every name."

"That's good, at least," Failure says, shifting again into Lia. "You will know us."

"I've always known you," I say. "But you wouldn't be what you are if you weren't something to fight and deny."

Failure nods.

"That is so," it concedes, and its power enters me, and then I am alone.

It occurs to me that I don't know how I got here. I don't remember going to bed and falling asleep… but perhaps now that Agnus Dei is dead, I'm the last remaining candidate. I think… the final votes are being tallied.

I think I'm becoming the Grand Queen. Or at least… a Grand Queen, in addition to the one in the moon.

"˙ʇı̣ s'ʇɐɥʇ ʞuı̣ɥʇ ʇ'uop I ˙ƃuoɹʍ ʎןqɐqoɹd s'ʇɐɥꓕ"

U-ugh!? Ahh… that was disorienting. Is this… Contradiction?

"˙ʇou ʎןǝʇı̣uı̣ɟǝp 'oN"

Hmm. That… doesn't actually answer the question, does it? I mean if I asked Contradiction if it was Contradiction, it would probably say no, right?

"˙ʇ'upןnoʍ I oN"

I don't see anything at all, and yet it feels like I'm seeing everything at once, an overwhelming amount of information visible in perfect blackness. It's giving me a splitting headache just to be around. God, I don't even know if I want Contradiction's approval.

"˙ǝɹǝɥʇ oS ˙uǝɥʇ ʇı̣ ǝʌɐɥ noʎ ןןǝM"

Ow… okay. Sure, whatever. Why are you even accepting me?

"˙ǝɔı̣oɥɔ ʇsɹı̣ɟ ʎɯ uǝǝq sʎɐʍןɐ ǝʌɐɥ no⅄"

Then why didn't you… ugh. Of course. You wanted to choose me, so you couldn't choose me until I was literally the only option.

"˙ƃuoɹʍ ǝɹ'no⅄ ˙ɥn-ɥnN"

This is so disorientingly painful. I'm happy I have your support. Please just leave.

"˙ʇı̣ ƃuı̣op ʇou ɯ'I ʍou 'ןןǝM"

Fucking… fine! Fine, I've changed my mind. I am going to be the Grand Queen, so I'd better get used to you, right? This is exposure therapy. It's obviously best if you stay.

"¡uǝɥʇ 'ǝʎꓭ"

The agonizing pressure vanishes, and I do my best not to pray any thanks that could be interpreted as dismissal. I'm lucky Contradiction was polite enough to let me lie to it in the privacy of my own head. …I suppose it probably likes lies. I'll need to find a way to get used to… all that. For now, the black void around me is almost soothing to the pounding headache Contradiction left me with. 

Naturally, my relief doesn't last long. It's subtle, at first, but I soon notice the darkness starting to bleed, the black void dripping down from reality and pooling into something more. Fires erupt from the oily ichor, and the shadows of monsters flicker in the light, spade-tailed and taunting. The heat rises to unbearable levels, the fires of hell slowly consuming my soul as Blasphemy reveals itself to me as a twisting mass of horned, mocking faces, blood dripping from their countless eyes.

"YOU HAVE SLAIN MY CHAMPION!" the god roars, the force of the words burning me from within as the fires eat me from without. The pain is enough that even I'm having trouble ignoring it, but I force myself to respond regardless.

"Yeah, fuck you for that, by the way," I grumble. "This all could have been so much easier. Your Queen said I was beloved by Blasphemy already, so what the hell changed!?"

Blasphemy laughs, its mirth feeling more human-like than any other god I've met so far.

"Entertaining you may be, but your plans for power are so trite!" Blasphemy complains. "Uniting the world under common cause, ending the world… bah! Agnus Dei would have been so much more fun in the long run. But then you went and killed her!"

"I'm assuming you didn't appear to her looking like this?" I ask, waving my hand at the blood-sobbing mass of shadowy monsters.

"Of course not. She was most receptive to the image of a bearded man in a white robe. I had quite a bit of fun with that act… but I suppose it is at least pleasing in some ways to have a Grand Queen that I do not need to treat as an ignorant fool. When you blaspheme, it shall not be as a result of my coercion, but of your own volition!"

"That's the Julietta promise," I deadpan. "Treating gods like the spoiled children they are since twenty fifty-six." 

Blasphemy laughs again, boisterous and full-bellied. It seems the agony I'm feeling in its presence is not due to any real displeasure with me, nor an inability to avoid overloading my poor mortal brain, but simply for its own entertainment. What an asshole.

"Your lack of respect for your betters is truly your most appetizing quality," Blasphemy agrees, "but I do wish I could force some respect for me inside you."

"If you tried your best, I'm sure you could get me to fear you," I say. "You could torture me as much as you want, and I would tremble to speak your name. But you get the same respect as any other god, and no more. Double standards like what you're asking for are more Contradiction's wheelhouse, aren't they?"

"You are quite the snake, to convince even gods to bite the apple," Blasphemy accuses fondly, approving hisses echoing in the background. "A manipulator of everyone you meet, speaking whatever words you need to reach your objective. So skilled are you that you can convince yourself of your lies, hiding your truths so deep that they cease to be truths at all. Yes, you will do, Julietta Monroe. Though personally, I have always preferred Seraphim."

"It's got good mouthfeel, doesn't it?" I agree. "Seraphim. Rolls right off the tongue. That's the plural version of the word, though. Logically, it should have always just been Seraph." 

"Yet you know exactly why the logic mattered less than the feeling, don't you?"

"Obviously," I agree. "Plus like, I could turn into multiple different Angels, so it's not even entirely wrong, right?"

"And I am a god, so I never truly lied to your late foe, did I?" Blasphemy snickers.

"You suck," I sigh. "You just suck so much. There are parts of you that are good, I won't deny it. Sometimes the status quo needs to be challenged. But you don't care about the 'sometimes.' You're just hatred defined by what everyone else loves."

"And yet," Blasphemy says, "you still love me more than who you're meeting next."

And with those parting words, they fade away. Knowing what to expect now, I keep on guard, but I still find that guard relaxing the longer I wait. It's slow, and it's insidious…

…But would it really be something that could be called 'bad?'

"Bliss, quit messing with me and show yourself," I call out.

A pleasant shiver runs up my spine, banishing all the aches and pains inflicted by the other gods. Am I really sure? I know what meeting Bliss will mean don't I? I can't be sure that I'll be entirely myself for the experience. So many Bliss powers affect the mind because that's what Bliss is. It doesn't exist outside a person's subjective experience.

"…Could you go easy on me, at least?" I ask. "I… I'm still easing into it. But you know I've promised to embrace you."

Which is to say, I've promised to embrace Maria. And that is acceptable, since Bliss knows I'm being honest. It wouldn't be right for it to push me too hard, too soon. A Bliss that becomes a memory of regret and shame is far too temporary for its liking.

Still, I can't help but shudder and fall to my knees as the world turns soft and the god of pleasure envelops my body. Aliens don't have these kinds of physical experiences, so Bliss has been particularly active among humans, adoring their culture to the fullest. Hugs and kisses, sex and drugs, euphoria and community and food and masturbation and friendship and worship and every little thing that makes tomorrow worth living for. Bliss is all the good in the world.

So why, Julietta Monroe, do you hate it so much?

I grit my teeth, force my brain into compliance, and spit out an answer.

"Because pleasure is something… that has to be earned," I hiss.

But I know that's wrong already, don't I? It's nonsense. Does little Anastasia need to earn my love and shelter? Or is it something I give away freely because I think she intrinsically deserves it? Obviously, it is the latter case. Surely, I'm not trying to claim that some people deserve happiness whereas others don't?

"No," I choke, and I try my best not to enjoy choking. "You've got it wrong. It doesn't need to be earned because you won't deserve it otherwise. It needs to be earned because otherwise it will never be enough."

Oh…? And what's wrong with that? What's wrong with seeking more pleasure on top of more pleasure, forever and ever? What's wrong with just being happy?

"Happiness is fine," I say. "But valuing happiness over all else is simply not a sustainable system. Even you can't grant the entire world heaven. You know what happened to Perfection when they tried."

The existence of evil gods should not prevent the march toward goodness.

"Of course not," I agree. "But ultimately, the world is broken and imperfect. People are hurting. Life is painful. Just about everyone in the world needs help. Everyone has hardship and trauma. Everyone grows old and frail. Everyone dies, and leaves behind loved ones sobbing and in pain. You can't stop it. The pain will come."

Is this not just more reason to seek joy? Is this not just more reason to find happiness? Suffering need not be fate!

"It's not fate!" I shout. "I'm just saying you can't treat happiness like it's free. Unless you've cut yourself off from society entirely, then society is what brings most of your happiness to you. Even a single bite of a good meal is food grown by others, shipped by others down roads maintained by others, assembled by others and checked for spoilage by others and if your goal is to just spend all your time eating, if everyone is trying to only be the ones eating, then it all stops. You have to give back. You have to believe you have an obligation to give back. And that requires work. It requires denying your own wants, even if only for a while. If you spend all your time running from pain, you can't ever help someone else who needs it. I won't let a selfish fantasy like that be an aspiration."

And so here I am, a follower of my own tenets and miserable for it. So repulsed I am by my own joy that I have turned masochistic self-sacrifice into the highest virtue. No… not even masochistic! That would imply I get some satisfaction out of my own pain, but I don't. I'm just so used to the pain that it stopped hurting long ago. How can I look at my own life and claim it's the way things ought to be? My life is a curse I wouldn't wish on anyone, yet I have the gall to act like I understand the reality of joy?

"I don't act like I'm perfect," I insist. "But if I didn't struggle and suffer, I would have never been able to bring joy to the people I care about. I couldn't have saved Ana. I couldn't have helped Christine grow into a person she's proud of. I couldn't have rescued Maria from a fate worse than death! I'm proud of that. I'm proud of myself, and I'd rather be proud and in pain than indulgent and ashamed. I never could have gotten here if I had spent all my time running toward base pleasures."

But pleasure is the ultimate goal, is it not? The world may be imperfect, but if I am seeking a better world, I should be seeking more joy for everyone in it. The ultimate goal is a state of ultimate Bliss.

"And that's my problem with you," I press. "You're insidious because, purely in the abstract, you are good. You are happiness distilled, and what could be wrong with that? The whole reason we make the world better is to make people happier. It's just true! But that perfect pleasure doesn't exist. It's not a possible reality with the world we have now. So if the temptation of it causes you to lose sight of that reality, and lose sight of others… you become part of the problem. When you horde joy for yourself, you hurt people. I've seen it happen far too many times."

I've felt it happen far too many times. It happened to me, because I needed so much more help than everyone else when I was disabled. Help that people resented me for needing, because it was work. It wasn't always an easy thing to give. That extra effort, those extra needs… I got hurt so, so many times because other people sought their own pleasure before they gave a shit about my pain.

I know that it wasn't always hedonism that caused them to brush me off and leave me to suffer. People have limits, and I was a burden. I was yet another weight to carry, and some days, it was just too much. That's not anyone's fault… but it's not the cause of every time I was neglected, either. There was plenty of help I could have been given and simply wasn't. And I never want to be that sort of person to others. Never, ever, ever.

"I will never indulge in Bliss while the people around me are suffering," I say. "I will never indulge in Bliss while there is still someone I can extend a hand to. Even if I restrict that only to my family… there hasn't been a single moment that felt right to take for myself. Not since I got these powers."

The air churns with calm, my muscles relaxing as my heart rate slows. Bliss understands now. Bliss knows the kind of joy I need. And I do too. If I can never let myself pull my hand away… then the skill I should learn first is being able to take not just the hands that are grasping for help, but the ones that are offering to pull me up, too. That lesson, the lesson I've been struggling to learn since all of this began, has been one of Bliss from the start. My loved ones just want me to be happy.

Why is that, of all things, so hard?

…Well, no sense complaining about it. I'm no stranger to difficult tasks. It might make me feel a little stupid to struggle with this particular one, but struggling is what I do. I'll figure it out. I'll relax, I'll have fun, and I'll… let myself feel a little Bliss from time to time. Maria has been very patient with me about that, after all. I have to make good on my promise.

Bliss thrums in agreement and fades away. Now, there's only one left. I don't imagine it will be too hard. Perfection is a goal and a binary state. You're either perfect, or you aren't. Living things, generally speaking, are never perfect… but I'll keep striving for better anyway. I won. I am the best remaining candidate. What more can Perfection ask for?

"Everything."

Ah. Well… I guess I probably could have seen that coming. Fashionably late, aren't you?

"Always on time."

Naturally. Silly me. So… what do you want from me, Perfection? I hope that my biological optimization attempts have pleased you, at the very least.

"A passing amusement."

I'll take that as a compliment. Even a mild amusement for Perfection must be beyond exceptional by human standards. None of us can reach you, after all. You're unattainable, and yet you're still the end goal. I've always strived for you, even knowing it's impossible.

"I am the one possibility you deny?"

Heh. Well if you think I can get there, I'll definitely give it a shot. Closer and closer, better and better. I'll fight for it, Perfection. Even though I told Bliss it was a fantasy, I'll still fight to make heaven on Earth.

"Flawless."

There's no better objective. Everyone should be able to live the life they want to forever. And hey, I'm apparently immortal, so… there's a decent chance I'll actually live long enough to see that dream come true. With the Grand Queen on your side, we might be able to establish heaven and keep it. Wouldn't that just be perfect?

"Cogent. The blessing is yours. And with it, you are complete."

Oh. Just like that, huh?

"Do not disappoint us."

I open my eyes, taking in a sharp gasp. My friends are floating around me with worried looks on their faces, high in the air where we killed Agnus Dei. Around us all are hundreds more people, both human and Angel, suspended by Christine's power. Every last one of them is staring at me. Something in their souls tugs at them to look.

"…It is done," Blossom says softly. "Blessed be the Grand Queen."

She's still in the warform I gave her, sharp and multi-limbed. Only now, with her faux humanity stowed away, does she deign to speak a sentence in perfect English. Only a small part of me feels an urge to rib her about it, though. The reverence she thrums through the network chokes the feeling dead.

"Blessed be the Grand Queen," a hundred different Angels echo. 

And I suppose, in every possible sense, I am.

"Julietta," Christine asks. "Are you alright?"

I've been better, but we're so far from done. We're so far from any sort of stability that could allow me to take a break. We've stopped the coup, and we've united all of alienkind underneath my authority. But the world doesn't yet know. The human governments do not yet know. And the countless alien colonies across the globe that feel me, but do not yet know me, are likely still fighting. There's still so much work to do.

"I'm fine," I say out loud. I have to be, so I will be. That is all there is to it.

"I can feel your thoughts through the network now, remember?" Christine presses.

"Then you understand why I'm fine," I retort. "In-Joke! You were clearly lying about reaching the end of your precognitive range. How are we doing?"

I glance up at the Defenders of Nothing with a hundred eyes, which alerts me to the fact that I currently have over a hundred eyes. My body is a shifting liquid mass, a writhing and ever-changing swath of potential spanning nearly twenty feet in diameter. Much bigger than I need to be. I condense my power back down into a more concentrated form, something almost humanoid if not for the six arms and dozen eyes I can't resist adding to the form. Even this feels limiting. The urge to keep changing is stronger than it has been since I first got my powers. My domain is massive enough to weigh more heavily on my mind than ever before.

"…We're doing good," In-Joke confirms. "We're doing really good."

"Agreed," Emily chimes in. "That was… oh my god."

I open my mouth to respond, but when the many humans floating in the air with us suddenly start to dissolve from the inside, it steals a considerable amount of my attention. What is… oh, right! Rapture.

"Don't heal them!" In-Joke suddenly blurts. "And definitely don't reclaim their biomass. That's how Rapture kills you. Er, in the timelines where I need to make her kill you. Which this isn't, I'm pretty sure now."

Ah, right. That makes sense. If Rapture gets inside my meatspace, she could eventually dissolve and destroy my real brain. Of course, now all the humans she consumed are going to die… but does it really matter? I can just bring them back again, and they won't remember any of it.

Shit. That's a terrifying thought. I can bring people back to life. I can make copies of people, read their minds, change their bodies however I want… anything. The power I have access to now is nothing short of biblical. I really am a prophet of the gods.

I don't like that at all. Not one single bit. But better me than anyone else, I suppose. I wouldn't trust anyone with this power. It's a good thing that I don't trust myself with it.

"…Is there anything left of the military in the area?" I ask. "Anyone remaining that we can talk to?"

"No," In-Joke says. "Nobody."

"I wasn't asking you," I snap, but I suppose I don't know who I was asking. I stretch my domain down to the ground, past the horrifying crater Agnus Dei made, and find the closest human. God, I can reach so far now. So goddamn far.

"…I'm sorry, Seraphim," In-Joke says. "I knew you would hate me for all of this, but it had to be done. You knew it had to be done, and we both knew you would be too stubborn to allow the sacrifices we needed to win. I'm sorry I had to withhold so much."

"And I didn't ask," I fire back. "Your actions aren't forgiven just because they helped us win."

"I know," In-Joke says.

And I do, too. I understand what they're saying. And I believe them. If In-Joke talked to some version of me with the benefit of hindsight, she absolutely would have signed off on it. That's just the kind of callous person I am. But it hurts, having to live it. It hurts, being the one to actually make those sacrifices.

"Get everyone to safety, Christine," I order. "Let's play it safe and assume the crater is dangerous for one reason or another. Send us into the city."

"Blessed, you may return to your colonies," I continue. "Our victory has been won. I will discuss terms with the humans. Blessed of Division, remain in the air with your Princess until a safe landing spot for your Queen is determined."

"Acknowledged," Christine confirms. "Stay safe, Julietta."

I don't think I need to anymore, but I suppose I can't let myself get complacent.

"I will," I nod. "Teleporting now, send the gang to me."

I form my next body near the human I identified earlier, alone in a small cove of trees. They're not a soldier; they're an absolutely terrified teenager who, rather stupidly, seems to have been sneaking closer to the battle for some reason or another. He wanted to watch, maybe? He's on the ground, leaning against a tree and gulping down air, having a panic attack or something close to it. I suppose that's a pretty reasonable reaction to being alone so close to an explosion that big.

"Hey there," I say. "You're safe."

I fail to stop a ripple of alien crystal scales from forming down my arms as he looks up at me, which probably doesn't help calm him down very much. Fortunately, I have a lot of experience calming panicked people, and a helpful human voice speaking clearly can go a long way, even from the mouth of a monster.

"Sorry, I know I look scary, but I'm human," I lie. How could it be anything but a lie now? "You're safe. The battle's over."

"I-I… you…" he stammers incoherently. I kneel down next to him, giving him a reassuring smile. Lips closed. I don't even know what my teeth look like right now but I doubt they're reassuring.

"You're safe," I repeat. "You're safe. Can you take deep breaths for me? Nice and slow."

I don't know why I'm still here, helping this random kid. Logically, I should head further into human territory and find someone from the government to talk to.

"That just isn't who you are, Twisting Scars Reshape Fate," Maria says, touching down behind me with the others.

"You're… superheroes…?" the teenager manages to stammer, staring at us with awe for a moment before blushing and looking away. I suppose we still look human enough, and most people wouldn't doubt the humanity of someone who speaks English. He's probably also a little distracted by the realization that I'm naked, though I'm currently as smooth as a Barbie doll. "What was… that explosion, it… is there radiation? Am I going to die?"

Oh. That's… a pretty good question, honestly, because I don't know. I don't think Agnus Dei's blast is itself radioactive, but I don't know enough about atomic physics to guess how radioactive something could become if subjected to absurd enough energy levels to carve a crater that big. My guess, however, is 'not very' and an examination of the kid's cells confirms it. No apparent damage.

"The blast was clean," I assure him. "You're fine. Can you stand up for me? We should get you home."

"I don't… I don't wanna go home."

I sigh. Bad parents? No, realistically he's like me. No parents, or foster parents overworked enough to count as such. Will people even accept peace? After all this death, is it even possible to convince humans to work with aliens?

"No doubting yourself now, Twisting Scars Reshape Fate," Emily chides me. "You will make it possible. That's what you do, isn't it?"

Right. I guess it is.

"Let's at least get you back to town," I say. "Though I should… probably continue looking around for survivors. Maria, can you…?"

"I'll take care of him," she promises. "You're looking a little dazed, though. Should you be heading off alone?"

"Probably not," I concede. "But the rest of you can't keep up with me, and this is something I think I need to do quickly."

Anastasia walks up to me hesitantly, putting a hand on my thigh.

"Um… could I… have a hug before you go?" she asks. "For a little while."

"If I don't make you stop, I'm worried that you aren't going to," her thoughts betray her into the network. "You've never slowed down for anyone other than me. Please slow down."

I don't need to slow down, I need to speed up. There's so much left to do…!

"Please?" Ana asks out loud, and I crumble immediately.

"Sure," I say.

I know it's a bad idea the moment I agree to it. I'm running on nothing but stress and momentum right now. If I stop, I'm going to stop, and it's going to hurt. But I can't say no to Ana, no matter how brazen her manipulations, so I find a tree to lean my back against and sit down with a heavy thump. Is my body bigger than I thought again…? No. No, just denser. I'm coiled with muscles as powerful as I can make. That is, perhaps, a slightly excessive amount of energy upkeep for the job of hugging a ten-year-old, but I can't convince myself to become any weaker.

Anastasia crawls up onto my lap and wraps her arms around my back, burying her slightly snotty face in my chest as she gives me a tight, powerful squeeze. I make sure to be a lot more gentle with my return hug. I'm very strong, and while she's plenty tough herself, Ana has already died once today.

God. God. I let her die! I let her die!!! She was wiped away from the world alongside everyone else, all thanks to my hubris. But I don't think that hubris was entirely wrong. I had to issue a challenge of some regard to Failure or else I wouldn't be able to make it fail, and if I don't make it fail then I have to fail to get its approval. But I'm holding Ana here in my arms, she's here, she's okay now, and even though this is technically a new Ana in a new body I made, it's fine because we don't think about the Discontinuity of Consciousness Club in this family, no sir! If complete reassembly counts as death, then my whole family has been dead ever since we went on the quest to get them Angel bodies! So it's fine! It's definitely fine!

"Agreement," Ana sends through the network. "It is okay. I am okay. You will be okay."

Yes. Yes I am. The tears starting to prickle at the corners of my eyes are a normal response to stress and not indicative of weakness. I am fine and everything turned out fine. We won. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't pretty, but it was enough. Everyone is here now, and everyone is safe.

I forcibly steady my breathing, making sure to mentally run through all the little techniques I know to help people in shock. It's a little harder when I'm the one in shock. Go figure. As my breathing slows, I tighten my hug on Ana's shoulders ever so slightly, craning my neck down to kiss her on the top of the head. She's surprised. I'm a bit surprised, too. She's never been shy about how much she cares about us, but we've never really been affectionate like that before. But whether she thinks of me as a big sister or a mother, I know I've done a poor job in the role. 

Ana's a fighter, but combat is still no place for a child. She should be in elementary school, making friends with other kids her age. She should have toys and dolls to play with. She should have a house, with a park down the street or a swingset in the backyard. She should have regular meals that aren't piles of crappy canned preserves we scrounge out of people's basements. She shouldn't look for her gun whenever she wakes up in the morning.

It's for Ana, and for Possibility knows how many kids like Ana, that I have to stop this war. I should get up, and I should go finish what I've started. I should do it as quickly as possible. I shouldn't delay for anything. But at the same time… there's no way I'm letting go of this hug before Ana does. There's no goddamn way.

It's slow, oh so incredibly slow, but I start to feel myself relax. Instinctively, I resist it, but a tighter squeeze from Ana helps me let go. My body loosens, and my mind slows. Bit by bit, from one moment to the next, my family's support brings me back towards something approaching calm. But before I can feel grounded again, I have to crash. The stress almost crushes me when I let it properly hit. I gulp for air like a fish, my jaw chattering as I give in and let the tears my body wants to produce flow.

At some point, the others join in on the hug. Wordlessly, everyone sits or kneels around me, leaning into me and offering their silent support. The weight of the whole world might be on my shoulders, but I've been taught again and again that I'm not alone. This is just another lesson, and maybe this time it'll stick. It's so hard, isn't it? To break a habit like this. To break… trauma.

"You were always there for me," Christine says over the network, offering her support from far above. "We're always going to be there for you."

"Confirmation," Emily agrees. "You know how broken of a person I am, and I still feel your love for me. I've done so many things to make me unworthy of it, but you still call me your family. There's nothing I can do but return those feelings as strongly as I can muster."

"You're a real piece of work," Peter says. "Always taking responsibility for things, no matter how much they aren't your fault. Far be it from me to chide you for arrogance, but no matter how powerful and important you are, you're not the center of the world. You're still just my sister."

"Sometimes I worry that you're only dating me because you know it's what I want from you," Maria admits. "You love me, and I know you love me, but you love everyone. The more I think about it, though, the more I think it's a good thing. It's not like you don't have enough for me. You're filled to the brim with love. You think so poorly of the way you feel about others, but it's not just duty that drives you to help everyone with all your heart. That unshakable will of yours is powered by love. The love you have for others, and the love you know we have for you. If it takes a thousand of me to help you feel the force of it in return, then that's what I'll do."

"You are the Grand Queen now," Blossom says. "Your twisting scars have shaped fate around you. You are the nexus and epicenter of my people's lives on this planet going forward. It is not so bad a thing that the weight of this can crush you. Were you able to shrug it off, you would not be worthy to bear it. But never forget that you have earned this not merely through your merit, or your skill, or your power. You have earned this burden because the gods themselves agree that you are joyful to love. The gods themselves agree that your presence will enrich their lives. You are so very, very easy to love, my Queen. And that is not something owed to you, but something you became, through your great strength and greater kindness."

"I love you, Julietta," Ana says. "I want you to be happy in exactly the same ways that you want me to be happy. Make sure you don't forget that."

"I won't," I promise. "Thank you, Anastasia. Thank you, everyone."

"I didn't say anything," Peter insists.

"You didn't have to," I smirk. "Sorry, I just… feel like I understand everyone better now, all of a sudden."

"So this what it take to pierce dense skull of Julietta," Blossom jokes. "Hope don't have to do again. Don't think can make you Grand Queen twice." 

"I love you all," I say.

"We know," Maria answers. "We feel it all the time, now."

Yeah. I do, too. I just have to look for it, and it's there. I bask in it for a while longer, Bliss humming with approval in the fringes of my domain. Eventually, though, it's time to move on.

"Okay," I say. "I'm feeling a lot better now. Thank you, everyone."

"You're very welcome," Maria smiles.

"Well… I guess we should get things done fast," I conclude. "Who wants to come with me to talk to the President?"

Unsurprisingly, everyone is happy to help.