[ He'd once been so similar, too. Once. That boy was so far gone now, but he knew what kind of monster a boy like that could make, if he were shattered into so many pieces, betrayal like that cut so deep. Perhaps Vergilius was right to withhold it from him. Perhaps he would never know — perhaps he would fail? — but... Who knew.

With their children, they always seemed to surprise. There were times Silco thought he would have to push harder, and times that he didn't think he'd have to push at all, and it was often the opposite of what he expected.

Why was it so difficult? ]

I — [ He wants to look away now. He does, when not held there. Silco so rarely looks away from him. ] — don't know. I asked LILITH, but all they said was that she wasn't dead.

[ His daughter lived, that's all he knew. She had been in his arms, he'd picked her up, and the only thing he could think was that mantra, echoing over and over in his head like a too-loud echo that drowned everything else out. She's dead she's dead she's dead ]

That is a mystery I'll have to learn someday when I return. [ A Beat. ] If, at this rate.