I’m in an alabaster cavern full of white bodies, still and quiet. It’s like an underwater cave full of blind fish, yet each and every one of them can see me, and knows I am not like them. Each and every one of them amounting to exactly one, in the end. I think of sea anemones on a coral reef, and clown fish nestling in their stingers, and wonder what will happen if my mucus doesn’t pass muster. Well, I’ll get stung, and it will hurt, and then I’ll be back where I was again, none the worse, save I’ll have to uproot the little bits of Z left behind in me and burn them out. Zagreus has redecorated: there are burning torches on the walls in place of electric light, and they burn with a pale flame that makes everything a little two-dimensional and strange.