Lupa frowns at the admission. "I don't... believe that anyone should have to--"

The touch stops him short, and he's tense under it. "Are you certain? I can still hear the screaming, feel the struggling, taste the--"

He chokes and finally says. "Almost every night. In dreams I am trapped in those memories, and not the cherished ones of before over and over. Is it right to enjoy what I've become when even a day of survival dooms several other lives to a painful and abrupt end?"

Softly, he grits out. "Here is different, for now. But how long will it last?"