"That's probably for the best?" says Orpheus, flinching again as one of the workers heavy boots catches his memory-self in the ribs. Unsure of whether he should keep watching - is it rude to look away if it's him? If he knows how it goes? Is it ruder to just stand here, even if it's all he can do? - he looks over at Michael, trailing along after him as he puts a hand to his own side, thinking about cracked ribs long-since healed.

"That I walked in, and that I was trying to take Eurydice back with me, I think," he says, worrying his lip. "No mortal leaves the Underworld. Ever. I'm still not sure who I am to have thought I could try something like this? But there was nothing else I could do."

What was his other option? Try to live without Eurydice, knowing she called for him before she went, and he wasn't there to hear her? Let their last conversation be him brushing her off as he tried to work on a song that just wouldn't come to him? He couldn't do that.

"He said - Eurydice told me he calls the dead his children, sometimes. That all this is supposed to be a favor to them. I think that makes it worse? Than if it were supposed to be a punishment. I don't think he understands how bad any of this is, or if he does he thinks there's something worthwhile in it."