"Is that a promise?" Gabriel asked, grinning as he flipped the diary open to exactly the page to which she'd had it open and reached for the pen on the desk. His handwriting was surprisingly archaic and ... well, beautiful. You could only assume he'd taken calligraphy lessons and done exceedingly well at them.

Assuming the story they fed us is false: who's behind it all, the Caretaker or someone higher up the food-chain? What's their ultimate motive? How did they manage to achieve what they did with so many various types of beings people from so many different universes? Why would they bother with such an elaborate plot, seeing as they had forewarning? What happened to their own people if they needed us?

While we're at it, where the Hell is this world?

He clicked the pen off and slid it over to her again, innocence in his expression.