[ Talk... no. Dokja had made sure not to talk about what he'd seen. ]

I felt what she felt.

[ It had been such a blur at the time, an assault on his senses, and he'd recognized it so easily. After all, it's what's consuming him, too. Them, maybe. Too much guilt for anyone to carry the weight of.

He subconsciously rubs at where the Martyr brand sits under his sleeve. ]

I didn't know... I didn't realize it until then, but she's suffering. You know that already, don't you?