Ilde obeys, breathing in and curling her hands together in her lap. Eye contact is steadying, if sometimes a little disconcerting for the person on the other end of her fixed gaze. "Lucas," she says, like she'd forgotten that Cindy doesn't just know things and occasionally telling her what the hell is going on might be necessary. "He controls New York. The opposition."

Sonja leads an army; Lucas is their enemy.

"He's bringing these things into our world..." He has one of the faqra witches under his control, and the memory of realizing makes her twist in, slightly, like she's trying to curl into herself against having to go on existing. "He was going to-- he eats souls, and we didn't have any time--"