It's that tumbled release sort of confession. This is still raw. This hasn't been vented and processed and softened. Though, of course, it's enormous. And made worse by that beautiful mind.

"Sometimes memory is the worst prison," Balthier says. It's weak in the face of what David shares, but he has to say something, has to pull David back, or at least remind him that he's here too. That this is passed. Even if the pain is still real, will always be real.

He feels his own memories stirring, resonating with pieces of this. But he pushes them down. Now is not the time.