There's no need to be modest. Your company is more amiable and tolerable than most.

[ There's something about conversing with someone just as no-nonsense and blunt as he is. At times, it makes for incredibly frustrating (and perhaps infuriating) interactions, but ultimately, he appreciates brevity and confidence.

His fingers trace over the various scratches on the orb itself, frowning at their presence. His eyes travel back to the manifestation of Sandra, frown deepening as she confirms his fears. She's right— it's getting increasingly difficult to find a refugee who wasn't affected by the kidnappings. ]

To say the least. I don't understand how they chose their captives. There was a frail and sickly elderly woman among us... [ He trails off. He'd never been able to see if she'd made it or not, having succumbed to his own madness and injuries before too long. It's not a pleasant thought to dwell on, so he diverts his gaze back down to the orb. ]

These scratches... were they meant to inflict pain on you?