"It’s my fault," he said. His hands clenched. "I told her about the fovea. I’m to blame. I share her sin and no amount of penance can ever absolve me of it. I told her about the fovea in jest, saying that there were worse things than the end of the world—one could experience the anguish of entering a fovea. I should have known when she started asking me more and more about it. But I didn’t realize what she was going to do until it was too late—until she disappeared."