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Years ago, if Dream had been invited to Hell, he would have refused. He would have suspected that its capricious ruler intended to trap him there or embroil him in some cruel scheme. However, unlike her predecessor, Lady Tanya was an endearingly honest and straightforward person at heart, even if sometimes her 'logic' wasn't the kind that would have made sense to anyone else. While he was in her care, he had no fear for his safety. No matter how she felt about him, she would feel duty bound to protect him from all harm.

She met him outside a shopping mall, an almost perfect replica of those he'd seen on Earth. Was this her latest vision of Hell? Like her dreary office building, it was very different from the classical idea of Hell, though undoubtedly there were some who would describe it as 'hellish'. Where it differed from her previous reshaping of Hell was that it didn't seem to have been designed to crush everyone who was trapped within it – the damned and their demonic jailors alike – beneath the weight of endless tedium and drudgery. Instead, there were shops that appeared to be selling all manner of delicacies and curiosities. There were whitewashed walls, shiny glass surfaces, plastic floors, and plastic smiles on the faces of all the staff and customers, some of whom were demons while others were former mortals who had been sentenced to eternal punishment for their sins in life. Everything was pristine, sterile and sparkling, as if it had been freshly built mere moments before. Otherwise, there was little to distinguish it from any of the similar places he'd seen on Earth, except perhaps for some of the advertisements on the walls: 'The latest in transcendental furniture: an Occasional Table!' or 'Special Offer: Get yourself a Crying, Talking, Sleeping, Walking, Living Doll – and get a Bicycle Pump absolutely free!' and so on.

"What fresh Hell is this?" he asked, surveying their surroundings with a raised eyebrow.

"I've never known you to make jokes, Dream. Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," he assured her.

She made a sceptical noise, but didn't press him further. Instead, she said, "I've brought you here because I want to show you that I've kept my end of the bargain: I've freed Choronzon."

"I trust you. You don't need to prove anything to me," he told her.

"Nevertheless," said Tanya, as she led him into a department store filled with clothes of all different sizes and styles. Choronzon was there, as knobbly and bubble-gum pink as ever, but with a hunched, defeated look about him that hadn't been there before. He hardly dared to raise his eyes above the counter he was serving behind.

Indicating him with an offhand gesture, Tanya said, "I've found some useful work for him to do."

"Ssss. Milady. Very useful," said the demonic cashier, who seemed unable to look at her.

"Choronzon. You should know that I wouldn't have freed you if it had been up to me," she said. "You owe your freedom to Dream of the Endless here. Be sure to thank him for his benevolence."

He gave Dream a frantic and almost unnoticeable glance before lowering his head again. "Nkyou," he muttered.

Tanya peered at him as if he were a tiny insect, something so far beneath her notice that she had to strain her eyesight just to pick out any pertinent details. As if he was nothing to her.

"Perhaps I should speak to him alone," Dream suggested, watching as Choronzon quailed before his mistress; his knees knocked together and two sets of teeth chattered as if he was freezing.

"Very well," said Tanya. "Although I don't know what you hope to get out of him."

"A sincere apology."

"I doubt you'll get it. Nevertheless, I wish you luck."

Dream waited until he was sure she had departed. Then, he turned to Choronzon, who had unfurled like a flower before the mid-morning sun.

"Thank you. Thank you! And I'm sorry for what I did! Sorry!" the demon gabbled. "That's all you wanted, right!"

"Actually, there's something else you can do for me," said Dream. "I need a favour."

He reached out with his ethereal senses until he was satisfied that Tanya was nowhere nearby. Then, he proceeded to explain what he wanted.

Choronzon grimaced at what was being asked of him, but said, "Ssss. All right. I'll do it."

Early one morning, while he was still brushing the sleep from his eyes, John Constantine was surprised when Superman knocked on his front door. Of course, he wasn't in costume – neither his classic red cape and skintight blue 'uniform' nor the electric blue bodysuit he'd been wearing recently – he was in his civilian guise as Clark Kent, award-winning journalist, who in his own way was almost as conspicuous as one of the world's greatest superheroes. His antiquated suit, geeky spectacles and clumsy movements did little to disguise the fact that he was a lantern-jawed hunk with bulging muscles and movie-star good looks.

Not for the first time, Constantine was glad that his neighbours paid him barely any attention whatsoever. Otherwise, they might have noticed and been curious about the remarkably attractive visitors he'd received recently. First there had been a petite and sharply-dressed blonde cutie – not that he'd ever dare call Tanya that to her face – and now he was faced with a large slab of prime beefcake. Yeah, he'd had pretty girlfriends and brought them back to his flat before, but their attractiveness had been of the ordinary variety – except for Zatanna, of course. Superhumans tended to be superhumanly attractive; unless they were legendarily ugly, divine beings tended to be divinely attractive. Tanya and Superman were no exception to that.

"Uh… hi, Clark," he said, opening the door a little wider. "What can I do for you?"

"Good morning, John," said Superman. "May I come in?"

"Yeah, I suppose you'd better," said Constantine, taking a step back out of the doorway. "Would you like a drink? Coffee, maybe?"

"Please," said Superman, stepping inside. He looked around at the unusually clean and tidy apartment, at the new table, chairs and sofa that had replaced the dilapidated old ones, and the new cordless vacuum cleaner that was leaning up against the wall. "I like what you've done with the place."

Constantine felt the need to justify himself: "I've been given a new lease of life and I don't want to waste it. I'm trying to take better care of myself."

He filled the kettle, switched it on, rummaged in his kitchen cupboard, and then thought to ask: "Is instant coffee okay?" He didn't usually drink coffee and had never owned a coffee machine, so there wasn't really an alternative.

"It's fine," was Superman's reply. He looked contemplative. "Tell me about Lady Tanya."

"I don't know that much about her. I've only met her a few times," said Constantine. "Still… if it wasn't for the fact that she's the Devil – the ruler of Hell, Lucifer's successor, and so on – I'd have no reason to doubt her benevolence." He heaved a dismal sigh. "I don't want to tell you this. It makes me seem like a complete arsehole. But I guess you know me well enough already." He allowed himself a rueful smirk. "I first met Tanya when I… I did something I shouldn't have. I was weak. I was dying of lung cancer. At the time, some of the most powerful demons were rebellion against her; one of them approached me and offered to heal me in exchange for a favour. He wanted me to trap Tanya with the same ritual that kept Dream of the Endless trapped in a cellar for several decades. At the time, I assumed that she was just as monstrous as any other demon, so I convinced myself that I wouldn't be doing any real harm by accepting his deal. If he couldn't defeat her with my help, that must mean he was less powerful than her, so really I'd just be replacing one of humanity's enemies with another that wasn't so bad. I could almost convince myself I was doing a good thing for a righteous cause."

He continued to ramble until the kettle had boiled. Then, he poured a mug of tea for himself and coffee for Superman.

"Even if it wasn't the right thing to do, it seems to have worked out for you," said Superman, in a nonjudgmental voice.

"Here," said Constantine, handing him his coffee.

"Thank you."

They stood and sipped their drinks in companionable silence for a few moments before Constantine decided to continue: "Yeah, she's been very generous. Suspiciously so, you might say. She should probably want revenge for what I did to her, but she doesn't seem to care. I'm sure she'd tell you that I'm a valuable tool she wants to make use of, but I'm not sure that's her only motive."

"What did you do that she should hate you for?" asked Superman.

"I told you I'd agreed to trap her in a cellar, didn't I?"

"Yes, but you didn't tell me the exact details. What happened?"

"The First of the Fallen – the demon I made that deal with – was enraged that I hadn't stripped Tanya naked before sealing her away. Apparently, she was carrying something he needed and I'd made it impossible to get it without freeing her. I thought he was going to attack me, so I decided to free Tanya and let them fight it out amongst themselves. During the fight, I was smashed into a wall and came very close to death. If Tanya had wanted me dead, I would have died then there and she wouldn't have had to lift a finger. But instead she decided to 'keep her promise' by saving my life and making me stronger and healthier than I've ever been."

"What promise was she referring to?"

"While she was imprisoned, she said I couldn't trust the First of the Fallen, but she'd offer me a similar deal: if I freed her, she'd heal me. And she promised not to kill me or harm me in any way."

"So, she more than kept her promise," Superman mused.

"She said she'd want a favour in return, but the favour she eventually asked for was so minor I'd probably have done it for nothing: she wanted me to be the public face of a hotel business, here on Earth, where demons and other immortal beings can experience what it's like to sleep. It's a sinecure. I get paid a decent wage for doing basically nothing."

"Have you considered that the reason for her generosity might be because she's trying to ingratiate herself with your friends? The Justice League, for example?"

"More than likely," said Constantine. "I was the one who suggested she should help you with the Prometheus situation. She wanted to meet with all of you, so I thought that would give you a good first impression." He paused and took a deep breath as he considered what he was about to say next. "Still, even if her motivations aren't entirely altruistic, that doesn't mean they're in any way malevolent."

"It doesn't mean they're not," said Superman. "She's immortal; don't you think she might be playing the long game?"

"Amongst demons, that would make her practically unique. I've never known any of them to have much patience."

"In your line of work, you must have met a lot of demons. I expect you have to deal with people trying to summon them all the time."

"Not so much recently. I mean: they still try, but they don't usually succeed. Except for a few renegades who haven't been back to Hell since the rebellion failed, Tanya keeps all of the demons on a tight leash."

"How convenient for you."

"It makes my work a lot easier," Constantine admitted.

Superman drank the last of his coffee without any outward signs of pleasure or distaste: mechanically, as if were a task that simply must be done. "Do you trust her?"

"To an extent. Like I said before, if she wasn't who she is, I'd have no reason not to trust her. She's been good to me."

"Do you believe what she said about how the Apocalypse is going to happen in less than three years' time?"

"I don't want to believe her – I don't want the world to end so soon – but I don't see why she'd lie about that," said Constantine. "Unless I've horribly misjudged her. She's the queen of demons, after all. Maybe everything I think I know about her is wrong." He heaved a frustrated sigh. "Maybe all of this is an elaborate joke to her."

"But you don't think so."

"Wasn't there a Chinese philosopher who had a dream about being a butterfly and then, when he woke up, he asked, 'Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?' I suppose it's possible that everything we see, hear and experience in life is just a cunningly crafted illusion… but anyone who actually believed that would never get around to doing anything."

"Everyone has to believe in something. Otherwise they'd go mad."

"Yeah. Exactly."

"You've had a hard life, haven't you, John? All those dead friends and loved ones…"

Abashed, Constantine lowered his gaze to the floor. "Some of that was my own fault."

"Because of your magic?"

"And the stupid choices I've made, yeah."

"But recently, ever since you met Lady Tanya, you've had a good life. You're healthy, you don't need to worry about money, and…" Superman hesitated, an awkward expression on his face. "There haven't been any disasters in your personal life that I'm unaware of, have there?"

"Not especially."

"Is it possible that Lady Tanya has been shielding you from the magic that's been causing you so much bad luck?"

"Sure, it's possible. Fairly likely, actually. She'd probably tell you she needs to keep me safe and happy because that makes me more useful to her."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"If she showed any signs of wanting to use me for nefarious purposes, it definitely would. So far, being her 'tool' has involved 'being well-paid for doing nothing' and 'arranging a meeting with people who would have agreed to meet with her anyway'," said Constantine. "I wonder if, when he was training her to be his successor, Lucifer forgot to teach her how to be evil. Or maybe he did that deliberately, as a joke."

"You don't know that she's not going to manipulate you into doing something nefarious in future," Superman pointed out.

"So far, the worst thing she's done has been to nag me about taking care of myself. In the same way that a doctor might nag one of her patients, or a teacher one of her students, or…" Constantine's voice trailed off into silence before he could give any more examples, the most obvious of which was 'or a wife might nag her husband'. He really didn't want to think too hard about that.

"I hope you know what you're doing," said Superman, looking doubtful. "But if you ever need help, don't hesitate to get in touch with me or one of the other members of the Justice League. We're your friends, even if we don't always agree with everything you do."

"Thanks, uh… Clark. I appreciate it," said Constantine.

Superman smiled warmly, as if they'd been talking about nothing more consequential than the weather outside, shook his hand again, and said, "Anyway, it's been great to see you, John. I'm glad you're doing well."

"Yeah, so am I. Thanks again."

"And if you find out anything else about the Apocalypse, please let me know."

"I certainly will."

They said their goodbyes, wished each other good luck, and then Superman departed. Finishing the last of his cup of tea, Constantine sank into his new armchair, feeling as weary as if he'd already done a full day's work.

"Maybe I should go back to bed," he muttered to himself. But he knew there were plenty of things he needed to do that day. Soon, he'd have to get up and put on his best impression of being a responsible adult. No choice about it, really.

The meeting place was grand, palatial and appeared to have been carved out of a vast, glittering crystal. Tanya would have preferred something more austere and practical, but she couldn't deny that Dream had held up his end of their bargain and done it well. Most of the assembled gods – and a few representatives from the Faerie realm as well – looked favourably impressed. They were gathered around a huge round table, which was meant to signify that she was treating them as equals, but the fact that they insisted on keeping their distance from her meant that she had a large space to herself while they were all bunched up together.

She recognized most of them. There was Susanoo-no-Mikoto, wild and tempestuous, whose beard, hair and clothes were as dishevelled as if he'd dashed through a gale. And there was his sister, Amaterasu Ōmikami, who shone with the light of the sun and was usually considered to be the chief deity of the Shinto pantheon. She hoped that was a good sign: by sending two of their most important deities to meet with her, they were taking her seriously and treating her with respect.

There was Odin, the one-eyed, ragged wanderer, leaning on his walking stick. He had a raven perched on each shoulder. Next to him was Thor, the massively muscled buffoon, who earlier that day had nearly started a feud between the Norse and Ancient Egyptian pantheons with his crude and offensive attempts to flirt with Bastet, the cat-headed goddess of cats. Accompanying them both was Loki, tall and lean, with scarred lips and flamelike hair, who had been temporarily freed from his prison deep beneath the earth so that he could advise his fellow Asgardians. What advice they hoped someone they had imprisoned and tortured for millennia would give them, Tanya had no idea.

The Faerie Queen had sent Cluracan; unlike Thor, he was charming and smooth-talking enough that he'd already been successful in arranging a romantic rendezvous with a member of the Egyptian delegation: a priest-king who'd been elevated to godhood more than four thousand years ago. With him was his sister, Nuala, and a few others Tanya wasn't acquainted with.

She recognized some of the Ancient Greek gods: Hades was a stern and forbidding old man; Hermes was an athletic youth wearing a winged helmet; Athena was a stately woman carrying a spear and shield. She had a faint suspicion that she'd met some of the Chinese gods before. She was less familiar with the gods of the Canaanites, the Aztecs and Incas, various African and Native American pantheons, the Burmese and innumerable others. None of the Hindu gods had made an appearance, which made her vaguely uneasy. Did they know something she didn't? Or was there something she had misunderstood?

The ancient Babylonian pantheon had sent representatives, which had come as something of a surprise; she'd been under the impression that they had dwindled away to nothing long ago, except for those like Nergal who'd found alternative employment. But no, there was Marduk, garbed in extravagant and kingly robes. His hair and beard were braided, oiled and arranged in tightly-coiled pillars. Beside him was his consort, Sarpanit, who appeared to be heavily pregnant. And Nergal was with them, in his demonic form, with batlike wings, sharp teeth and leathery skin, an obsequious smirk on his lips. Until recently, he had been one of the most powerful demons in Hell, one of those who had rebelled against her, but had fled when it became clear that her victory was certain. His disappearance had been a minor irritation; she had been unable to find out where he'd gone and had glumly concluded that he would be a problem later on. Now, it remained to be seen what kind of problem he would be.

It was exceedingly unlikely that the Babylonian gods didn't know that Nergal was one of her former employees who had made himself her enemy. Therefore, she had to assume that this was a deliberate taunt, a way of testing whether or not she could be trusted to set aside her grievances for the greater good. If she had been willing to attack him here, in neutral ground, after inviting them to this meeting and promising they would not be harmed, they would know she couldn't be trusted.

Setting aside her annoyance, Tanya put on her friendliest smile, hoping to convince her guests of her good intentions. It seemed to do little to put them at ease.

She pressed on regardless: "Welcome, all of you! I'm pleased to see so many of you gathered here. I hope we can reach a mutual agreement that will lead to a better future for all of us. Being X, who calls himself the one true god, has decided to destroy the universe and everything in it. But if we unite against him, joining our strengths together as one, we have a chance of defeating him, unseating him, and achieving what any of us alone could not. We can be free of him: free of his oppressive rule; his smug, self-righteous meddling; his pathetic need to be worshipped and adored by everyone, just for allowing us to exist. We can be free at last! Together!"

They looked unconvinced, so she hastened to sweeten the deal: "As proof of my good intentions, I am willing to make numerous concessions to you: I will aid you in battle against your enemies, I will give you favourable trade deals, and I will allow some of the damned to leave Hell and take up residence in your afterlives." Turning to Cluracan and the other representatives of the Faerie Queen, transfixing them with a powerful stare, she continued: "No longer will you have to pay the tithe that requires you to sacrifice nine of your wisest and most beautiful to Hell every seven years. I release you from your ancient agreement with Lucifer. Instead, it is my hope that we can build an alliance and work together as equals."

"What kind of trade deals?" asked Anubis, the Ancient Egyptian god of the underworld. His head was that of a jackal and his expression was unreadable, though there were traces of suspicion in his voice. "Why would we want or need them?"

"That's up to you," Tanya replied, with a small shrug. "I'm in the process of turning Hell into a major industrial centre. Soon, anything you want or need will be produced there!"

"How many of the damned will you allow to leave Hell? I cannot believe you would relinquish so many as to reduce your power and authority by any significant degree," said Hades, in a grim and sepulchral voice.

"Those who have committed relatively minor sins, for which they have already been harshly punished, will be allowed to leave. Those who truly deserve to be in Hell will have to stay."

He inclined his head, just slightly, as if she'd confirmed his suspicions.

"Will you fight beside us at Ragnarok?" Odin wanted to know.

"Of course. I will aid you in all of your battles, should you need me," Tanya promised.

At the behest of his new masters – or were they his old masters whose reins he had accepted once again? – Nergal stepped forth and said, in a simpering voice, "May we have some time to consider your words and discuss their meaning for ourselves?"

"It would appear that many of your fellows already have," said Tanya, glancing around the hall and listening to the hubbub of murmured conversation. "Carry on."

This week, the various members of the Justice League were too busy to meet in person, scattered all over North America as they were, but most of them managed to set aside some time to meet face-to-face via video conferencing. Orion of the New Gods was not there, having returned to New Genesis to ask a few pointed questions of Highfather and Metron. Everyone else was in attendance, including Oracle, who had recently been revealed as a secret member of the team who'd been acting behind the scenes.

The main item on the agenda, and the real reason why they needed to have another meeting so soon after the last one, was Lady Tanya's warning about the Apocalypse and their subsequent attempts to find out whether she was telling the truth or not.

Zauriel went first, describing what some of his angelic contacts had said when he'd visited them. He concluded by saying, "They all confirmed that the Apocalypse is due to begin in less than three years' time, on the twenty-third of August, just like Lady Tanya said."

"During my brief visit to the UK, I spoke to John Constantine, who told me that he has no reason to doubt Lady Tanya's word. Personally, he would prefer it if the world wasn't coming to an end, but she has always been honest and kind to him, for as long as he has known her, despite the unfortunate circumstances of their first meeting," said Superman.

"He's only known her for a few months. And he's not what I would call a reliable witness," said Batman.

"While you were there, you visited Warlock Dowling, who is supposed to be – or to become – the Antichrist. What did you think of him?" asked the Flash.

"I posed for some publicity shots with the American ambassador and his family," Superman confirmed. "As far as I could tell, Warlock seemed like a perfectly ordinary little boy. Overindulged, maybe, but remarkably good-natured."

"Did you see any sign of his developing superpowers?" asked the Martian Manhunter.

Superman shook his head. "No, not at all."

"It's a shame he's too young to join the Teen Titans. I imagine he and Raven would have a lot in common," said Batman.

"I suppose you could train him to be the next Robin," said Oracle, sounding rather unenthused.

"So… whatever we do, the Apocalypse is going to happen in three years' time. What should we do about that? What can we do?" asked Huntress, determined to stay focused on what was really important. "If it's God's will…"

"If the creator of the universe has decided to bring it to an abrupt end, I doubt there's anything we can do to stop him. Instead, we will do what we always have done: try to save lives and protect the innocent for as long as we can," said Superman. "If the Apocalypse is going to happen regardless of what we or anyone else might do to prevent it, we might as well try to minimize the misery and suffering that will happen as a result."

"Maybe our efforts will be for naught, but that's no reason not to try," said Wonder Woman.

"I think Lady Tanya would be happy with that," said Aquaman, with a crooked smile. "Judging by what she told us last week, she's trying to prevent the Apocalypse and maintain the status quo – and by standing against the horrors, monsters and natural disasters that will be unleashed after the Antichrist comes into his inheritance, we'll be helping her achieve that goal. Unless she was lying to us the whole time, of course."

"That's still a possibility," said Huntress.

"We can only hope," said the Flash.

"Our beloved queen will never agree to it!" Cluracan declared, drinking deeply from his bottle of wine and cuddling his latest paramour to his side. "Even if it means we'll still have to pay the teind, it won't be for long. A few years at most. And then… I suppose we'll be erased from existence. Oh well, better than the alternative, I suppose. If we join Tanya in her defiance, we'll be punished forever! Oblivion is preferable to that, wouldn't you agree?"

"How long will we have to wait for her answer?" asked Nuala, who appeared graceful and composed, and was drinking nothing but pure spring water garnished with rose-petals.

"Not even a twinkling. A few moments, probably. An hour or two at most. Any longer than that… well, I'd be surprised," said Cluracan. "Frankly, I'm surprised we haven't already heard back from her."

"I'm inclined to accept Lady Tanya's offer. With her help, the final battle at Ragnarok will be easily won," said Odin, gazing over the balcony at a churning sea of dreams. "What say you?"

"I'm not sure why you brought me here," said Loki, sly and scornful. "You know I am your enemy. You know the prophecies as well as I do. When Ragnarok comes, I will escape my bonds beneath the earth. I will be the helmsman of the largest ship that has ever existed, built of dead men's nails, which will carry the Frost Giants and the legions of Hel to Vigrid, where the final battle will take place. There, you will be devoured by Fenrir, Thor will slay Jormungandr and be slain in turn, and I…" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I will have my revenge. I will die happy."

"What happened to you, Loki? We were blood brothers, once," Odin wondered aloud, with sorrow in his heart.

"That was long ago, before you turned one of my sons into a monster and forced him to devour his brother. Before you imprisoned me beneath the earth, bound with the intestines of my murdered son, with a snake dripping venom into my eyes and my poor wife able to do nothing but catch some of the venom in a bowl and whisper that she loves me."

Thor's response was thunderous. He seized Loki in both hands, rattled him as if he were a rickety piece of furniture, and roared: "You deserved it! You murdered Balder!"

"I saved him. Thanks to me, he will survive Ragnarok. Afterwards, he will return from Hel and take his place as one of the new gods, ruling over the new world," said Loki, with a smug grin. "Besides, you didn't punish me for causing Balder's death. Not for years afterwards. Instead, you punished Hod, who was just as much a victim as he was." Twining his neck so that he could lean closer to Odin, he whispered, "You raped Rind, who gave birth to Vali, who grew up and slew Hod before a single day had passed. Was that justice? No, of course not. And what you did to me wasn't justice either. You and the other gods decided to punish me, not because of what I did to Balder or how I tricked Hod or any of the other crimes I had committed, but because I embarrassed you at dinner. Because I insulted you and revealed a few truths you'd rather have kept hidden. And that, more than anything else I'd ever done, was why you sentenced me to be tortured for thousands of years."

"I will pull out your lying tongue and strangle you with it!" cried Thor, fastening a meaty hand around his neck.

"Is there a point you want to make, Loki? Or do you just want to unburden yourself, now that you have the chance?" asked Odin.

"Even now, you need me to be your handyman, to solve all your problems for you, just like I always did. That's why you brought me here," said Loki, whose grin remained fixed despite Thor's attempts to throttle him. "Therefore, this is my advice to you: I wish you would accept Tanya's offer. With her help, you may survive Ragnarok, but you cannot hope to defeat the one she calls 'Being X'. He created everything from nothing and can unmake it just as easily. What do you think he will do if you defy him? I have no doubt he will punish you far worse than I have been punished, for the rest of eternity. And then, I will rejoice in the knowledge that you will suffer a far better revenge than any I could have dreamed of."

Odin signalled that Thor should drag Loki away. He would be returned to his underground prison, where a snake would drip venom into his eyes and he would be bound with his son's intestines, just like before. Nevertheless, he'd given wise advice, even if he'd done it in an unnecessarily hostile way. For that, Odin was grateful.

"None of them want to accept my offer! They've all refused!" Tanya cried out in disbelief. "Pretty words, but 'no' means 'no', even if you dress it up in elaborate finery."

She paced back and forth across the floor of Dream's throne room, feeling as if she might tear her hair out with frustration.

"They're afraid. Not everyone is as strong as you," he said.

"Does it take strength to oppose someone who would utterly destroy you otherwise? Unless they put up a fight, they will be erased from existence. It will be as if they had never been. Don't they understand that?" It was a rhetorical question and Tanya knew there was no answer that would satisfy her. "I'd have thought that at least some of them would be desperate enough to join me."

Dream arose from his throne, drifted over to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They're frightened of what 'Being X' will do to them if they rise up against him. Oblivion is preferable to endless suffering."

"I'd rather suffer than cease to exist. That's why I continue to fight," said Tanya. "Even if I have to do it alone."

"You won't be alone," said Dream. "What about all those who look up to you, who admire you, whom you've inspired to be much more than they were? Hastur, for example. He was a crude, foul-smelling brute, but thanks to your leadership he has proven himself to have courage and honour."

Tanya didn't think Dream had ever met Hastur and was unsure as to how he knew so much about him, but presumed that it must be because the Endless had all kinds of nebulous powers related to their particular sphere of influence. Perhaps being the Lord of Dreams gave him special insight into Hastur's daydreams of bettering himself. "He's done his best to clean himself up, so his scent is barely noticeable these days, but he still can't

wear a business suit without looking like a walking laundry pile," she said.

"And Scumspawn… He greatly admires you, to the extent that he was able to overcome his natural cowardice for your sake."

"Yes, he says he loves me," said Tanya, with a weary sigh.

"Love is not always based on admiration – or on anything more than physical beauty – but perhaps it should be," said Dream. "Those who love and admire you, like Scumspawn and Hastur, will follow you until the end, whatever that may be."

For a moment, Tanya leaned against him. His arm embraced her. Then, as if she'd suddenly remembered herself and who she was, she straightened up and took a step forward, out of his reach. In what seemed like an excessively formal voice, she said, "Thank you for attempting to lift my morale. I appreciate it. Now, I must be going. There is much I still need to do today."

"Important business matters, no doubt," said Dream, with some amusement.

She gave him a stiff nod. "Indeed. Farewell."

"Farewell," he echoed her. There was more he wanted to say, but he held his tongue and let her go. It was the right thing to do, for both their sakes. He would have no regrets.