[His eyes continue to track over the foreign statue. There is something rather grand in its looming — this is the sort of statue that is reserved for deities, or at least that’s what Ardyn would assume. He thinks, idly, that he does not care for it because of that.]

At least there is some comfort in knowing that there are a number of certainties to come. I must admit that a small part of me is jealous. Of that, and your ability to look upon such a sight with something at all shaped like hope.

[His own closure, left hanging. Unfinished and undone.]

So what are we looking at? [He means the statue.]