[ The screen suddenly comes to life beneath her fingers — she'd accepted the video call, thumb grazing the green button without realising it — but Anathema doesn't mind. Just swivels on her impromptu seat to get a little more privacy, angle the camera away from the crowds. She looks more disheveled than he's ever seen her, even more than the first apocalypse. Hair sticking up at odd angles, streaked with orange dust. ]

Magical training, the death of a mentor, and— someone predicting the future over and over and over, all trying to avoid a terrible outcome, but just leading to other terrible outcomes instead.

[ Anathema blinks. Is that a glint of tears in his eyes? A beat, a pause, and her next few exhaled words are fairly impolitic but she's bad at managing her words right now. She's just too tired. ]

God. That's— What can kill a whole planet? Besides, well, y'know. You guys.