AKA basically none of those answers forced anything to be true. Gideon feels like Harrow for a moment, a frustrating realization that she's siding with logic over emotional truths. Perhaps all that time in Harrow's head rubbed off. She just met Saxsice and doesn't want to ruin that determination. "I've lived through all my deaths, at least briefly," she says, "so I'm probably not the best example for that." Probably courtesy of God-dad. It makes sense only something like a god has snatched them here.

"I don't know how you make people better," Gideon says, "That was never the subject of my learning, and all the attempts people made on me didn't go anywhere. I'm notoriously hardheaded. Pure force and punishment isn't something I'd bet my money on. Even if you can make people dance to your strings, if it's out of fear and for pure survival, you haven't made them better. You've only made them scared and given yourself more problems." She shrugs. She isn't an all powerful being. She isn't trying to make anyone here better. She's not, really, sure she's doing anything about herself. Except, she doesn't need any more people dead on her account. Dead-er.