“I was angry,” I said, and the others nodded sympathetically. “I wanted to break things, to get the anger out, to roar and let my breath wash over those shining towers and their pretty lights and snuff them all out.”

“I know that feeling,” a moth-headed creature mumbled. Its wings scraped the glossy granite dome of the magma chamber, its multifaceted eyes shimmering with regret for the things it had done.

What we’d all done, in our moments of fury.