"I spy with my little eye, something beginning with D." "Is it a dragon?" "You got it!" The Spectator sighs deeply. It's been dealing with Faerie Dragons every day for months. Lawful, devoted guardian meets freewheeling chaos engines. The door to the Flesh Vault is neon-colored. The Spectator's eye has makeup. Things have... evolved. Maybe they've become unexpected friends (duty doesn't demand misery, chaos has value), or one's gone missing and they're asking players for help, or they've merged into a Faerie Spectator hybrid with Euphoria/Dysphoria breath. What lunatic created it? Sometimes winning doesn't matter. Witnessing something unexpected and finding it matters does.