[His gaze narrows. So this is the man behind the dream. The soul that slept as it dreamt of salvation. How poetic. Seymour owes this man his hatred. His hatred and his utmost disgust.]

You speak as if you were there. [He says coldly with only a hint of intrigue in his tone.] I can tell you're not him from just your words alone.

The malice of the Fayth are known to me.

[He smiles somewhat but it's a humorless one.]

Tell me, did you dream of this? A world so vibrant and pure not yet beseiged by war.