There was nothing left for her when the worlds ended. She had no future, she had no family. Only responsibilities. Pythia offered a future, gave a reason.
She fought the cancer, she fought the Admiral, she fought her people, she survived New Caprica. Because Pythia showed her the way. She gave them hope, she offered them salvation, she promised them Earth and the thirteenth tribe of Kobol.
She stepped out of the raptor onto a nuclear wasteland, a destroyed world. Earth, the promised land, was dead. The thirteenth tribe, a tribe of cylons.
Pythia meant nothing.
There was nothing left.
