Vac woke up the next day, and went back down to Vesta. He's racked his brains on what exactly she wanted him to do and had made multiple attempts, but couldn't figure it out. His fingers still stung from having tested out whether he could touch the flame he created without getting hurt.

On reaching the room, he noticed someone else in the room with Vesta. They stopped talking upon his arrival and then Vesta turned to him and said, “Good timing, Vacuus Venti. This is the leader of the next gang you will be working with. His name is Moros.”

Vac nodded and took a look at the man. He was plain-faced, and didn't particularly stand out in any way. He was acting humble and seemed perfectly ordinary. But despite all that something about the man seemed strangely off.

They set off together, Vac following the man along the rooftops. They engaged in some idle conversation, but nothing more, until the man pointed back down. As they walked along the narrow and damp lanes, Vac noticed that there was a certain smell to the place. And that there were a lot of people whose eyes seemed glazed over, who seemed pale and jaundiced, with the same strange smell from their bodies that seemed familiar. They shuffled along the dark corners and meekly gave way to Moros.

“Hey, Moros, what's going with these people?”

As though calmly talking about the weather, Morris replied, “Oh, they're drug addicts.”

Vac slowed down as he muttered a soft, “What?”

Moros nodded nonchalantly and kept walking until they reached a certain building. As they entered, the sight of what's inside made his blood run cold.

There were people in rows hunching over a box of poppy seed pods and scratching at them to release the latex. They were then being carefully dried for a bit, and then were sent off to a different group that scraped them off with a blade and then left to dry once more in open wooden boxes.

In a different section of the room, alchemists sat with chemical apparatuses, a lot of which Vac was familiar with since he dabbled in them himself. They were experimenting with coca leaves, for the sake of producing its salt form, what they called “blood sugar”.

Vac grabbed onto Moros’s collar and yelled, his voice trembling with anger.

“What the hell is going on here, Moros! Why the hell are you making these drugs and flooding your own city with these things! Can't you see what it does to them?!”

No one else in the drug factory even flinched, calmly going about their work, as Moros simply moved Vac’s hands away and said, “Of course we aren't aiming to flood our own city with it, our main buyers are from outside. Of course a few buyers do end up being from here and some get sucked in after getting a taste, but that can't be helped. Simply collateral damage, that's all.”

Vac shoved the man aside in his rage and stormed back to Vesta. A long-buried memory of the past flashed through his mind as he ran. There had been a drug problem in Aeolia as well. He'd been warned off from their area by his grandma, but being the rebellious little shit he used to be (or rather still was), he snuck away to the place when he got the chance. And what he saw frightened him, the sight of people stumbling around, eyes glazed over like the walking dead, people puking their guts out and continuing to use the drug. People with bloodshot eyes throwing themselves at him.

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It was a traumatic memory that he'd locked away, the most terrifying experience of his life.

As he entered Vesta’s room, he yelled, “What the hell is going on here! Why are you supporting that drug-peddling tramas putidas!”

Vesta sat calmly, sipping away at her tea. She responded, “Now, why do you think I support him?”

Vac practically snarled in anger, her cryptic and irritating way of speaking getting on his nerves.

“Well, you sure as hell don't seem to be working against him. You could kill that little shit and burn down his business. So why don’t you?!”

Vesta shook her head and said, “Leaving aside that it wouldn't be particularly easy for me right now, do you truly think killing him and burning it all down would fix it?”

“Why wouldn't it!”

“It seems like you yourself have had some experience with people dealing with the consequences of drug addiction, given your reaction. Tell me, Vacuus Venti, did you go about crushing that drug business? Or did your strong and noble grandmother do so?”

As Vac was silenced by her words, she continued, “Moros is simply a symptom of the issue, which is the desire for what the drugs represent. I do keep it from overrunning this city, but I can't deal with that root cause even if I wished to. And even leaving that aside, I'm no ruler, I don't control this place and its people, nor do I seek to. I'm a god, not a hero. It is not my role or goal to save the people. I'm the Balancer. I keep this place from burning down. The more fundamental issues are for the people themselves to resolve.”

Vac found the question he wanted to ask.

“So what is it you do want?”

Vesta smiled, and swirled some weak flames around in her palm as she spoke.

“Before I say more, there are certain things you need to understand and accept, Vacuus Venti. This place is not Aeolia, and what you see in it are mere echoes of your memories of that place. Your people were conquered, your home twisted into something else. But the people here came here of their own volition, and choose to stay. For the people here, this is their home, no matter what you may think about it. They came from all walks of life, followers of every god. Those who'd lost everything, those who never had anything in the first place. Thieves and soldiers, doctors and killers. The one thing uniting them is the fact that before they came here, they were without a home. And when they did, they had naught but this place.”

Vac reached the end of his patience and asked, “Yeah, yeah, that's nice and all, but what does that have to do with what you want?”

“I'm getting there. Allow a storyteller to tell their story. As for what I want, it's simple. I wish to see the home these people build. I want to see if the desire for a home can thrive even in such a desolate and lonely place, and I simply seek to support and maintain this place as the goddess of the home.”

Vac frowned.

“So it's just some sort of experiment for you?”

“That's harsh. It may seem a nonsensical reason to you, but it is my very reason for being. As the goddess of the home, I'm drawn to those who seek it. And I can tell you, the people here desire that more than anyone anywhere else. In that sense, this is the place closest to being my sacred city. But do not mistake my words for me not caring for this place, for I do. Ever since I chose to stay, locking myself from Olympus, I had not a home. Isn't that amusing? A goddess of the home who had not one? But now, this is my home, for the rest of my time.”

Her last few sentences caught his attention as he asked, “Wait, what do you mean, locked away from Olympus? And you chose to stay? For the rest of your time? What does that mean?”

Vesta smiled enigmatically and answered, “That's a story for later once you’re more ready. Now, is there anything else you wish to ask?”

Vac realized they'd drifted away from his original issue and asked, “So why did you send me to work for that guy anyway? You should've known that I wouldn't.”

“What makes you think I expected you to work for him? I told you, did I not? You must deal with your own fear and anxiety.”

Vac grumbled in annoyance and responded, “That task makes no sense. You can't not feel anxiety and fear, that's just part of what makes us human. You can't expect me to…”

His voice trailed off as he came to a realization. She hadn't told him to get rid of his fear and anxiety, she'd told him to deal with his fear and anxiety. What did she mean by that?