"Yup. We can't upset the delicate balance between the only two gods that we actually know."

"Yeah, that wouldn't be a good plan. But we seem to have strayed from the topic."

"We have, I'm sorry. Terraforming via gods would just be so helpful."

"It's an excellent shortcut, absolutely. If it comes down to it I could encase populated Limbo in a gigantic dome or several so it could self-contain a water cycle and then it wouldn't need much added maintenance. There could be little external gravitic supports. But for today - you want to meet my dad?"

"Yes, please!"

And so they go through the portal into Charlie's Limbo house. Charlie is in it. There is a football game of some kind playing on the TV in the background and eggs frying on the stove. Cam gets a hug as soon as he's stepped into the kitchen. "Dad," he says, "this is Adana, my girlfriend. Adana, this is my dad Charlie."

"Hullo, Adana."

"Hello," says Adana, smiling. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Charlie's fine," says Charlie. "And it's nice to meet you too."

"Do you want me to handle the eggs, Dad?"

"I have got the hang of eggs since last time you saw me cooking anything, Cam. But thanks."

Adana raises an eyebrow. "Is... I feel like there's a story there, do I want to know...?"

"I am not," says Charlie, "a particularly good cook."

"It was pretty awful when I was alive, but apparently there's been improvement since. At least in eggs. Those look edible."

"I'm glad to hear it." She then pokes Cam, affectionately. "You also are still alive."

"Would you have batted an eye if I'd said 'before I died'?"

"... Good point, my boyfriend dying is sort of vaguely upsetting. But you're definitely still alive."

"You realize that by that logic literally no one from our world is dead. And this before we even start intervening. Kind of stretches the word 'dead'."

"Other people are allowed to have died. I don't like it, but it's within their basic human rights. You're not, you have to not ever die. So declares your girlfriend. Who also died."

"I know you did. I was there."

Hug. "It's okay, angel."

Hug. "It is now," she agrees, softly.

"The sort of pidgin spoken in this part of Limbo has different words for 'dead' like an animal and 'dead' like a Limboite," comments Charlie. "Think it's Chinese for the first one and Portuguese for the second. Something like that, I don't pay much attention to etymology."

"Huh. Maybe we should use those, that's helpful. I know the angelic I picked up translated it to 'ascended' instead of dying."