You count up your dead, every one. Always. Recall them, each and all - every face, every heart.

Don't forget, Riddler, how I love thee. Or all we shared together. Or that this sea and all other seas can lead you back to me.

Tempus would be protected, better shielded from whatever the Stepson thought threatening, if love could heal and save.

Gather the shards of your courage. Patch together what resolve you can. We'll find this thing - and kill it.

Niko, you're halfway to where you need to go. It's the most dangerous time. And all the gods and forces have a stake in you, Hero. Or do you want to be just a memory, a cult somewhere, with people sacrificing horses to your name?

You three have done quite enough today: all of you and your feckless, treacherous god.

Don't blame yourself, or worry. Neither does a bit of good.