Maria Villanova sits in her office and gazes out of the window behind her desk. The sounds of gunfire can be heard outside, though the street immediately outside is still. General Urnfield assure her that this monarchist reprisal is temporary and shall be put down by the evening. The clock reads 15:41, which leaves the revolutionary guard plenty of time to finish their work before dinner.

               “President?” Maria’s goddess draws her attention from behind her. Terramare does not usually manifest herself so blatantly, and never in such a human form as this, but here she is. She stands on the other side of Maria’s desk, dressed in the ceremonial uniform of an imperial officer. “I believe it is time we had a word.”

               President Villanova coolly turns in her seat to face the goddess. She has spoken with her before.

               “Of course. What will we discuss today, Lady Terramare?”

               Maria has never seen Terramare take a human form before. For all she knows, she is the first. On some level, she expected for her goddess to look different. More tired, perhaps, from answering the prayers of soldiers, or frustrated by the destruction of her many temples in the capital. She does not.

               Terramare has never taken a human form before, but she looks the same as she always has. Her hands and forearms are stained with something dark, as though she has been digging in the soil from which her name derives. Her eyes are a similarly dark shade. She does not look tired or angry, but she does not look rested or kindly either. Terramare, as always, possesses only those aspects that she chooses to possess, and no more. She speaks with a voice that reminds Maria of the dead empress.

               “You have taken the empress’ head, and those of the whole dynasty. You have broken the back of the aristocracy. What few monarchist forces remain in the country will soon be excised unless some foreign power intervenes on their behalf. Your revolution appears to have won.”

               “It has, yes. Thank you.”

               “It has not. Tell me, President Villanova, what distinguishes a goddess and an empress?”

               “I suppose the state of your necks, to start with.” President Villanova chuckles, perhaps more for herself than the goddess across from her. She does not break eye contact.

               “You are close, but I suppose I meant aside from the nature of our respective degrees of mortality.” The goddess clarifies, then pauses. “I will skip the dialogue and make clear my thoughts by listing similarities,

               First, the empress ruled her domain with an attempt at absolute royal authority. I rule mine with absolute divine authority.

               Second, that we both derive that authority from divinity, in both cases my own.

               Third, that the peoples of our domains revere and respect us both. No, President, your clique of revolutionaries are an exception. Your revolution is not truly a popular one.”

               Maria does not interrupt her goddess, but she does break eye contact for a second. Terramare notices this and pauses her speech for a moment, before resuming.

               “You were close in that the difference is tied to our respective degrees of mortality, but I think it goes beyond that. Why, dear Maria, did you kill the empress?”

               “Because we could not allow her to become more of a symbol or rally foreign allies against our revolution. She represented an old order that needed to die. Some of my cohorts celebrated her death, but I feel that any death is a tragedy, necessary or not. It was an unfortunate, yet vital, part of destroying the old regime.”

               “There, you’ve touched on it again. ‘It was a part of destroying the old regime’, right there. Good job, President. The key difference between myself and the empress is not that only one of us can die, but that only one of us can be destroyed. Only one regime between the two of us was mortal. She was the state, perhaps, but I am the world.

Tell me, President Villanova, how does your regime best a ruler who has perfected absolute rule?”

               President Maria Villanova does not respond to the goddess. She turns back to the window, and listens to the fleeting few shots as the last of the monarchists are executed. She will not respond to her goddess ever again. A few minutes later, an aide will enter the office to inform her of the results of the battle and inquire as to who she was talking to. Maria will reply “nature”, and that will be the last anyone says of it.