The least Nathan can do at this stage in the proceedings is show Caleb a good time.

Richie finds himself in an undesirable situation. Or: bloodsucking Geckos in bondage.

"Whatever you want," Nathan finds himself saying when his shirt comes off over his head and his glasses hit the nightstand — like he's talking to himself, which he might as well be. "Don't think about it like should, or shouldn't. Don't think. Don't fucking try and figure it out. Come on. You can keep your shirt on."

There are other ways to engineer a crisis in Gilead.

Tris and Four take a detour.

Edward receives an education in the inutility of virtue. The Earl abducts him for a session of discipline.

Ammit consecrates her avatar to herself.

Longing makes the world bright and the yearner blind, he knows, but even without his want soaking through and staining it, he thinks— he would be sure.

The first time, though of course he doesn't know it's the first time, everything went exactly according to plan. Crowley got the baby, right on time. He took it to the nunnery, and didn't stop to talk to the man waiting outside. He observed the whole thing, and made sure no funny business happened. At the end of the night, the Antichrist went home with the Dowlings.

It takes 600 more tries to get it going exactly according to the right plan.

Peter loses, and Ego patches him up afterward. Okay, this is only going to suck a lot.