"Think about it, Constantine, and you will see. The god—your shark, mm?—your shark does not see the flesh of this world. That is the shadow. The god sees our true selves, our signs and signifiers. It sees the Hierophant, the Supplicant. It sees Stella, and what she means. It doesn’t care about the mist around her. The game is a world made of signs. It exists as a map of a place that has no physical reality, so we call it unreal, but to the god, it’s no more unreal than we are. It swims in you, and in the game, and the water tastes the same. Cleaner, there, if anything." He’s wearing a robe, like the haruspex in the other room but considerably cleaner.