Mag nodded. He had summed it up without having to bother with the gory details. She remembered the citizens of her age living in fear of the Repo-Man, the night surgeon. They said he had no mercy and she believed it. He would have come after her, too, had she stayed in her world and not come here. She was sure of it. That would have been her fate. The most famous soprano in the world who was ended tragically by the same scalpel used to harvest organs and lives of others. She wasn't any different from any regular person and she would be the first to admit that, but be it a death of vanity or an overdose on Zydrate, there was no plush way to go. Everyone died the same in the end.
When Piotr mentioned speaking about her story, Mag smiled a little. "You're beginning to sound a little like Peter. He encouraged me to share my gifts already with the people of the city. Before I came here I sang opera. Peter and I have spoken about creating a small amphitheater here where we can hold performances. If that will ever come to light, I'm not sure, but he said music was hope. And hope is what these people need. If my stories bring that then I will share them."
She lead a life of catering to others before arriving here, entertaining them. It was in her nature and always had been.