Semiramis drummed her fingernails. “Engel thought it was because they didn’t wish to appear lowly, or they were ashamed. Egg said no, then said they had someone for the job? I didn’t follow.”

“The Custodian,” Sveta said.

“That was the word he said,” Semiramis said. “Why?”

“Every detail matters,” Tattletale said. “That’s good. But it doesn’t relate to our current issue, and you don’t care about it if it doesn’t relate. That’s the where and the what. Teacher in the unreachable extradimensional complex with the army of thralls and other allies. Thralls with brooms.”

“Tell me why. Do I need to worry about him doing this again? How do I stop it?”

“The why is that you got too close to people who were asking questions and you started asking your own. It’s that simple, because he’s going after anyone and everyone who does the same. His predecessors went after problems like a surgeon with a scalpel and a precise knowledge of what they wanted to achieve and how. He’s… going after things like a… analogies fail me. He’s getting enough people under him that he can gather five people and tell them ‘watch them’ or ‘slow them down’. Something like that, but he can do that for everyone that matters. Five sets of eyes on every last person that matters. He amasses information, gathers people, and connects all the dots, while blocking everyone else from doing the same things.”

“Villains, heroes, rogues, civilians—”

“Mercenaries, machines, governments,” Tattletale finished for me.

“He’ll do this again?” Semiramis asked.

“He’s doing it. He never stopped. He’s doing it as we speak. And you don’t stop it without stopping him, and you aren’t strong enough to stop him.”

Semiramis frowned.

“You can help us,” I said. “If you want this to stop.”

“Or if you don’t want to help us, because Tattletale’s annoying or you don’t trust heroes, help anyone who’s opposed to Teacher,” Sveta said. “But… I think helping us is a pretty good bet.”

“You’re biased,” Prancer said.

“It’s my opinion if I were objective,” Sveta answered. “Antares fought Teacher’s army before, I know more than you’d think about the place Teacher is and what’s going on there, and about Engel or Egg, and Tattletale knows things. You’re not going to find better people to handle this.”

“There’s no guarantee you succeed,” Little Midas told us. “You want money, you want access? We give you that and chances are we get nothing.”

“Not money. We don’t care about money. Give us information, which costs you very little to give—”

Midas interrupted me, “Opinions may differ on that.”