“Stander-G remembers fighting at Lyrnessus. I don’t know where Lyrnessus is!”

I shook my head. “I have too many other loyalties. You wouldn’t have made a Mycroft that felt like I do about Ἄναξ Jehovah.”

“Maybe I only changed the surface, maybe I made you nice and kind and loyal like this, where you should be fierce and free and scary, like your friend!” He paused for breath. “I almost turned them into Apollo, when they first showed up, your scary friend. They looked so much like Apollo. Apollo would know how to fix everything, I thought. I almost did it. Think about how sad you would’ve been. Just like Sadcat, and as long as I exist I might do the same thing, accidentally, anytime, to anyone, to everyone!”

Alarm far worse than fear of Sniper’s bullets set on me like frost. “As long as you exist? What are you doing in there, Bridger? Bridger!”

“It’s like Croucher said, I can’t control my powers. I’m turning the whole world into a war story like Apollo’s Iliad. Just by being so scared of it, I’m making it be real. I can’t stop it! Can you imagine how much worse it’ll be if I go crazy? I can’t handle this power. No one can.”

“Jehovah can. That’s why you’re here together. Providence planned this. Jehovah has the experiences, the thinking of a God. You’re omnipotent, They know how to handle omnipotence. They’ll guide you. You each have half of what you need.”

Conviction’s heat made Bridger’s words strong, not fiery, but like a candle, just strong enough to hold its own. “If that was the plan then Providence would’ve given Jehovah my powers in the first place. They’re not for Jehovah. They’re not for anyone. No one should have them, especially not me!”

Major: <Mycroft, what’s happening over there! We just lost Mommadoll, she reverted to toy form. Is Bridger hurt?>

“Bridger?” I called. “What are you doing?”

“Mommadoll wouldn’t want to see this.” His voice broke, the sorts of sobs that usually come only with pain. “I’m done, can’t you see that? I brought Jehovah proof that God exists, that’s what my powers were for, you said so yourself, so did Jehovah. You don’t need me anymore. Everything else I do just makes things worse.”

“You’re not done, Bridger. We need you more than ever. You can stop the war, all of it, by working with Jehovah—”

“You know that’s not true! I can’t prevent the war, it’s already started! All I can do is pick a side.”

“You can do more than that. You can end it sooner, make it less bad. Win the war!”

“I don’t know how!” His words began to slur, the half-formed syllables of a child speaking more to himself than anyone. “You should’ve raised me as a soldier. That’s what you need now, a soldier, a replacement for Apollo, not someone like me. Then I can disappear.”

“Disappear?” I tugged at the door, remembering now the boxes of old clothes we had hauled from Bridger’s cave: coats, T-shirts, wigs. “Bridger, you’re not putting on a costume, are you?”