No, we shall not feed. The nurse still sustains us, yes, and the pneuma of this Fields is more useful intact! We have done well, to harvest with so little damage to the fruit.

There, there: cooperate, little Fields, and you will suffer less.

Quiet, breathren! What was that, little pneuma?

Are you not suffering already? Of course you will suffer more. We have been in session, in ice, alone and without amusement for far too long! And is the world not defined by suffering? You will suffer – but we will sacrifice a few of our many pleasures if you will give us all you have experienced of the thinking boxes of your age.

What is that, little pneuma? (Quiet, again, we must have quiet! Let the prisoner be heard!)

God?

Poor pneuma. Even we do not know if your deity exists. But do not trouble yourself with that overmuch. We fear there will be little remaining for your God’s embrace when we have finished.

You will not be leaving this place.

Let the entertainments begin!