"Oh, I'm going to thrive," Rachel insists, a faint smile turning her lips. "I may not go about it the way the city or the gods or whatever want me to, but I'm not about to just lie down and let this place get the better of me."

She takes another sip, the alcohol warming her from the inside, making her feel relaxed and maybe even a little fuzzy around the edges by now. "They had to know people would react like that, though, right? I used to assume they brought us here to bend us to their will or whatever, but, like--what if they want things to change?"