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I heed Octavia’s -term upside, which I can defend and they will be unable to verify Can’t be Rising Can’t be Society I have no scar on my face, and can properly eh society in Erebos The identity is natural, and a little hilarious But I’m half mad from dehydration, so I dive in

“Cato au Vitruvius,” I say The identity I used for security reasons when I would visit Glirastes for studies It belongs to a fictional son of a real local fa future

“Salve, Cato I’nacius, Crastus, Hadrian” In turn, he nods at the kind-eyed woiant, a pretty man in his thirties, and a squat bull of a Gold hts of Elysium at your service, such as we are”

“Oh, now you’re a Knight of Elysium,” Drusilla mutters

“Arcosian Knights,” one corrects

“Who are you?” Ignacius demands of me

“He means how did you end up in this hell?” Alexandar asks He smiles crimson Not one of his teeth re He looked haughtier on camera, and Grandant, intelligent, if not too creative, with a paternal deficit complex after the death of his father His defensiveness of the Reaper suggests the complex’s newest placeholder

I tell the at Erebos Ordnance falling on the city accounts forto rescue survivors, for the sunburns; and trying to take the impaled victims down, for the tacNet wounds Drusilla asksshe’s been to Erebos But so have I, and I trapped it all in aht belts of the citizens, and the gold filigree in every single street sign

I pass their er tests

“You’ve been here a while, haven’t you?” I ask

“Yut,” Alex replies, with another trap

“Pardon?” I ask, flummoxed

“You’re not a soldier, are you?” Alexandar says

Another assumption trap “I don’t understand”

“Never mind”