Alma stuck her head through the portal, admiring the sudden window into a wilderness that was meant to be miles away. It was only through intrusive thoughts of decapitation that she managed to reel herself back in.

"Blimey, looks like ya leveled up," noted Hwalín. "Can you turn 'em off just as easy?"

Alma pondered for a moment, scanning the multiple portals surrounding them. After a moment, she threw her hands out in front of her as if expecting something to happen, but nothing did. She blushed in embarrassment. Frustration forced her to try several more times—all with lackluster results. She tried extending her hands far back to her sides before bringing them forward into a loud clapping motion. She then tried various small, weaker claps. Then snapping. Then she tried pumping her fist in the air a few times. When nothing happened, she angrily punched at the air, but that didn't seem to do the trick either. Nothing she did seemed to close the ring of portals. Alma turned to the two women beside her and shrugged her shoulders, dropping back down onto the coach with a sigh.

"I see you are attempting to channel your ability through familiar motions," said Qu'l-Nia. "And while I agree that to be a viable option for you, your mind is not yet willing to accept that. Do not forget, the mind is a powerful thing and you must first convince it that you are in total control of this ability of yours. If you can master that, then anything becomes possible."

"Well, if it were that easy to just tell my mind who was boss, then I wouldn't be stuck with soul-crushing depression." The ex-soldier chuckled to herself half-heartedly.

"Not just to the thoughts in your head, but to the conscious mind of your body."

"My mind?" asked Alma. "You mean, like my mind mind? That thing you said that was like the opposite of my soul?"

"Oho! She told you about that, did she?" Hwalín was lying back and grinning. "Took me a while to understand the concept myself, but it ended up helping me focus my othering in the end."

"Othering? Wait, Q, you think I can use magic? Come on now, I'm no witch. I'm a gunslinger." Alma grabbed her pistol and twirled it on her finger before waving it back and forth playfully. She then rested her chin on the barrel. "I guess it could explain some things… But how would I even have an othering in the first place? I thought that was your guys' territory with the eldritch magic and shit. And come to think of it, how does Hwalín have one? I remember you mentioning it once sort of off-handedly and it just completely slipped my mind until now."

"Magic is a special energy conjured up from the soul," explained Qu'l-Nia. "With precise control and the correct aptitude, one may use it to affect the universe around themselves. I believe you are already aware of this much, yes?"

"Insofar as Heli's taught me, yeah."

"Othering is diametrically different from that. It is quite the opposite, that is to say. Rather than the soul, it is the special energy conjured up from the mind. It influences the things unaffected by magic. It can touch the mechanics that drive the universe and disturb the space beyond it. It is the primary engine of The Real and delves directly into the realm of gods. You were correct in assessing my singing as othering, but it is not something that would be ordinarily accessible to untrained, unattuned childlings." The random sequence of twinkling on Qu'l-Nia's hair seemed almost strangely uniform in that moment. "That being said, perhaps it is finally time I shared something else with you. While I have said that othering is not as accessible as magic, if one of the egovoid were so inclined, then it is possible for this power to also be shared to lower beings. Depending on the type of sharer and exact othering being shared, they can bestow this kind of power on either a single entity or a group. The recipients of this othering… These chosen, so to speak, have collectively been dubbed the monomyth."

"T-That uh… sounds a bit ominous, don't you think?" replied Alma somewhat anxiously. "You think my power comes from an othering, meaning you think I'm some sort of… monomyth? Wait, does that make Hwalín your monomyth? Q… Are you saying my power is a gift from some literal higher power? …How long have you known about this? And why the fuck were you waiting so damn long to tell me about this?!"

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"I had no proof, Alma. I was unsure. I am still unsure, but it is what makes the most sense. If it is true, then your othering has already shown extraordinarily terrifying growth in such a short amount of time, proving that it is extremely powerful. I had posited the theory in my mind when you first described your ability to me, but as it evolved, I found myself becoming increasingly uncertain. The implications proved too much to bear, as it would mean that your power comes from something wholly unfathomable. I was uncertain of whether to admit my fears to you, so I remained reticent until now when it finally seemed more pertinent to confess everything. I ask for your forgiveness, Alma. Perhaps you deserved to know this from the start."

"You're damned right I deserved to know, you coward! Damn it, Q, I—Argh! Macha's sake, why does it feel like we're always arguing? I can't even muster up the strength to be mad. I should be worried over all this, but really I'm just exhausted at this point. I have had this power since as long as I can remember. If there were any consequences waiting to come crashing down on me for being born with this crap, I think I'd have suffered them by now. I'm not some special chosen one. I don't wanna be. I'm just some girl, okay?" Alma's head hung low for a while. Finally, as if a machine were slowly turning back on, she raised her head with a slight chuckle. "Heh. You think this means that this probably really was a gift from Macha the whole time? It would be in her wheelhouse to drive me insane with it for all these years. But if that were the case, then what in Cockaigne did she want me to fucking do with it?"

"Derleth'll probably know, you know," said Hwalín.

"Huh?"

"Just saying, mate. And not just me. Nia's been saying it too. Best person to ask would probably be the guy who's been watching over the planet for most of its history. Gotta have some answers for us, I reckon. More the reason to get our arses over there already."

"Yeah…" Alma rubbed her face with her palm then looked over at Qu'l-Nia. "You say the mind's a powerful thing, huh? Guess it's more powerful than any of us realize." Alma pointed at one of the portals with her hand and raised her thumb, forming a finger gun. She closed an eye before making a little firing motion. "Pow."

Both Hwalín and Qu'l-Nia, who had been observing closely, shared a look of astonishment.

Alma's firing motion seemed to close the portal she happened to have been aiming at the moment she pretend-fired. The ex-soldier smiled quaintly—almost knowingly, before standing up and repeating the motion for the rest of the surrounding portals. Each one closed in step with her little maneuver. She then took aim with her outstretched finger gun at an empty spot across the room and fired once again, creating a new portal inside the apartment wall. She walked into it and stepped out from an exit formed behind the couch. The sniperess aimed to her left, and walked through another newly formed portal exiting on the right. She aimed to her right, and walked through that newly formed exit on the left. She repeated this a few more times, all while sporting a smug look on her face. When she finally felt satisfied, she brought her finger to her lip and blew at imaginary smoke. "And that's how it's done."

Both women gave a round of applause at Alma's surprise achievement.

"You did it! Nice going, mate!"

"I am impressed with this development, Alma. You are truly taking to your capabilities. At the very least, this power seems safe in your skillful hands."

"You know what? While I'm at it, let me see if I can stop back home really quick. During my whole slump earlier, I didn't really make any time to clean myself up and…" Alma raised her arm and gave her pit a quick sniff. "I'm smelling real ripe right now."

The sniper aimed her portal finger-gun and fired a convenient exit back home.

About an hour and a half later, Alma returned through a portal formed in the frame of her sister's bathroom door. Stepping out was a much cleaner ex-soldier wearing her familiar black coat on top of freshly cleaned white turtleneck shirt. Her dark pants were now accompanied by a pleated, leather skirt. Her now silky hair was finally looking less greasy and tied up into her usual top-knot and the black lipstick and smoky eyeshadow she now wore gave her face a dark, menacing look. Slung over her shoulder was the bag containing her trusted hunting rifle—among many other supplies.

"Lookin' sharp, Alm," said Hwalín. "You pull the look off well. All set now?"

"Yeah," replied Alma. "I'm ready." The ex-soldier shot another portal directly behind them. The vista seen within was that of a mountainous area covered in frozen trees and beset by howling blizzards. Snow was once again wildly blowing in through the newly formed portal. "Come. Let's hustle before we get this place all wet."

Qu'l-Nia rose from her seat on the coach, letting the gatin slip from her lap before it quickly returned to nuzzle against her ankles.

Hwalín, setting down her freshly empty beer bottle on the counter, began to make her way toward the portal when her sensitive, Hecatian ears picked up a sudden, unusual sound that came from one of the nearby windows of the apartment. She looked over at the window to investigate, but failed to notice anything out of the ordinary—just the bleak, ice-cold streets of Malachias.

"Is there something wrong, Hwalín?" asked the eldritch woman.

The Hecatian shrugged. "Naw. Must've been my imagination."

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