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The spread of food in front of her continued to grow until there was a veritable banquet filling the table. Obviously, this was far more than she alone could have been expected to eat, so she could only assume that more people were going to be joining her soon.

Or at least, she hoped so.

As for the dishes themselves, Gema had to lean forward and inspect them more closely, because even at a glance, they looked truly otherworldly. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen food glow before. She’d heard about of a couple of entrees in the Undercrust that also did, but she’d yet to actually visit and see for herself.

This was not just a couple of things, though. All of it was glowing. The entire feast. She was looking for even just one portion that looked in some way normal, but she couldn’t find it.

On the bright side, however, nothing looked or smelled particularly horrible. In fact, some of the scents she was picking up were quite enticing. The dish closest to her smelled faintly of honey and cinnamon, which happened to be some of her personal favorites.

It was still a bit questionable as to whether or not those two things were actually in the food, though. She had a rather strange feeling that they might not be. Like maybe this was all some sort of elaborate sensory illusion, designed to appeal directly to her psychically-determined preferences.

The temptation was certainly there, though. And a variety of utensils were already laid out in front of her, too.

And as she continued looking and smelling, she couldn’t help feeling terribly ill-at-ease by this whole situation. Like she’d been dropped into a den full of psychic booby traps. Like there was nothing she could do and nowhere she could go to escape.

But thankfully, that was just a feeling. And Gema Elroy was quite good at ignoring those.

She’d always preferred to flip a situation on its head, instead of stewing in silent discomfort.

After a few more silent moments of deliberation, she turned to the nearest Methusel behind her and said, “Excuse me. I’m sorry to be a bother, but how many calories are in this dish, right here?” And she pointed.

The Methusel looked at her like she was speaking in tongues.

Gema Elroy was not deterred. She looked to the next Methusel. “Maybe you could just show me the packaging for the ingredients used. That might give me a rough estimate.”

Shockingly, still no answer arrived.