"Well that narrows it down," jeers the stalking chimaera. Less verbally, Zagreus agrees. But is Johnny the sort to play clever, or to play to meaning? Serious now, Zagreus sits down cross-legged on the sand, a literal and visual buckling down. "'N,'" he says, with the weight of real actual calculation behind it. It can't hurt to be cautious, at least in this one, singular thing.