Maybe it is gods who rule this place. Most use mortals the way a child uses bugs for play.

[Now he's got the uncomfortable image of all the times he burnt beetles or poured water down anthills when he was small tapping away inside his head. If they are truly the bugs here, that doesn't bode well for their chances of survival.

Garrett's about to give out his name, the way he has when anyone else has asked, when a spark of mischief strikes him. He's had precious little use for humor thus far, so it's a good sign that it's finally returning to him.]

Why? Do you not like your own?