[ he listens intently to the story he's told, chin resting back on his palm, leaned forward, his spine straight with interest. ]

... I see. In a way, it's not so different from our own situation. Though paradise on earth just means the apocalypse and everyone dead. I suppose paradise just isn't easy to come by.

[ he sighs. well, don't, doesn't particularly impress him. he wants to argue that it makes no difference. as long as he does what needs to be done, does his state of mind matter?

but then vincent continues, and he feels compelled to answer despite himself. ]

People are. My friends— My friends are. I don't care about me, but I don't want them to die.