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Miranda the not-so-well-disguised blue dragon stares at you when you ask if she could possibly explain the whole situation. Then she slowly, gradually smiles, showing her sharp canines again, as her long fingers pluck a fruit-laden toothpick out of her cocktail.
“How adorable you mortals are, always asking for explanations. Always asking us to reveal our plans. This is where I’m supposed to speak in a clever parable, aren’t I? Where I will somehow draw parallels between some fictional events and what is happening as we speak without ever spelling it out? I could do that, you know.”