The sensation of the moment would be happiness, if indeed there was a sensation. It would have been a good feeling, to see the fractured sky.
Of course, she *didn't* feel-not in any human sense of the word. She didn't smile and she didn't have the same frame of reference for pleasure. She didn't have the same notion of purposes, precisely.
But there was, yet, a sense of progress. There was an awareness of resolution, and of the course of the story. One has seen a favorite movie before, perhaps many times; the story is known, but does not one revel in the victories of the protagonist? If such a set path can be appreciated, if such a known series of events can yet delight, then surely there is something to be gained from a story which yet has some variables.
Some blind spots.
One such blind spot had been unsatisfactory. It had killed two of her brothers in a short span of time and yet not itself persisted. It was too much action for her tastes, if such human traits as "tastes" were to be attributed to her.
The disappearance of the protagonist was not a major factor in her opinion-analogue of the situation. That perception of coincidence would have been a human fallacy.
One might say the story had drifted from the main character. It made for a less satisfying stretch in the narrative, but you've read this book before, haven't you? You know he'll be back soon.
Good things came in threes. The three initial siblings and the three current groupings, if you didn't fall into the human trap of counting mere physical bodies. The three tube-babies. The three factions about to contest control of the multiverse, and the three wild threats preparing to bring it all down. The three faces of the Wielder of the Dead and the three faces of the Wielder of the Living.
And "now?" Now we're picking up the main thread of the story again. The three successes (plus one distraction) and the three supporting characters. They would face three trials, and on the third…
No, she couldn't feel pleasure, but something was better now. Something was at a high point.
The freshly-displaced Wielder of the Dead would be on her second trial now. It was a blind spot, but she had calculated from where these stones were being thrown. She had seen the future damage to the creatures from the second supporting character, she had seen the modifications and repairs made by the third.
Their subplot was reaching its climax. They would try something desperate, and the plot twist would manifest.
It was a satisfying twist. It would return the story to focus. It would return the sense of narrative purpose.
The agency. *Her* agency. Her motivation to again be active. Her spiritual core, distinct from the physical core at the joint of her largest wing.
Her Agent.
Her Eidolon.
