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Summary
"Philza." The Observer boomed, and Phil frowned at him, but couldn't do much else. The big fucker raised both his arms in dramatic fashion, his long sweeping sleeves spreading out like large wings, and when he dropped him there were two people kneeling beside him, and Phil's stomach dropped in kind. "Pick your gift."
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Phil breathed, looking at the two men, heads bowed demurely. They almost could've been statues if they hadn't been breathing and Phil felt suddenly like he was on the verge of throwing up. Cellbit's face had gone cold and distant, an expression Phil hadn't seen in a long fucking time, an expression he'd never hoped to see again. "You can't be fucking serious."
I.e. Missa is given to Philza as a prize. They both do their best despite the circumstances.