[A work of art. He's silent for a moment, thinking of his ode to the Wounded Man. The expression on his face doesn't shift, though he relishes it.]

You see a lot. [It's a concession without conceding, and he smiles at her, indulgent - she's smart, but not quite seeing the grand picture.]

It's been said on the network that not all who brought here are dead. That even time cannot move while we are held here. And all too often, people have simply vanished, presumably to return to their lives. Or deaths.

[She is very much dead, but everything about his tone and posture says he very much is not.]