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"I'm sure the Vanguard has valuable intel about the state of the world, right now," said Damian. "That's intel we may need."

'Good thing we've got other ways of acquiring it, then,' said Overra. 'And what about you? How's your network of contacts, currently?'

"...Serviceable," said Damian.

'If you've been able to keep tabs on us with it, then I suspect it's better than merely serviceable.'

"I'm not making any promises after going mad for half a century."

And again, Parson found himself circling back to the point that he'd been trying not to dwell on. "...Are you implying that you're cured now?" he said.

"No," said Damian. But then he paused. "I don't know. Truth be told, I can still feel it. The memories are vibrant. It wasn't some other personality like... Jonah struggled with. It was me. And yet now, I... agh, it's difficult to explain."

'Try,' said Overra. 'Do you feel like yourself again?'

"Not exactly. I feel like someone new. I feel more in control than I've ever been, sure, but I also can't forget the..." He trailed off.

Parson had to push him. "Can't forget what?"

The other man leveled a stare at him. "The things I saw."

Impulsively, Parson wanted to ask what he meant, but he stopped himself. He instead had a very sudden and strong feeling that he already knew exactly what Damian was talking about--or a close approximation of it, perhaps.

Parson had his own encounter with the otherworldly, after all. With non-existence in the realm of Chaos. Or the Void. Or whatever it was called.

It hadn't amounted to much, of course, but he'd never forgotten the time he touched that black sludge on the outskirts of Montero in Korgum.

Which also had happened to be his very first encounter with the name Ettol.

Certainly not a coincidence, now that he was looking back on it.

But in his encounter, Parson had merely looked at the madness that lay within Chaos. A detached observer. It hadn't affected him in the slightest. He'd even felt disappointed by it, somehow.

But now... seeing what had become of Damian...

He could understand how lucky he had been at that time. How close he'd gotten to losing himself.

It was now quite easy to imagine what might have happened if he'd been fully immersed in those sights at the time--if he hadn't felt so safely detached.

Not to mention, there was probably so much more that Damian had witnessed, too. Things that Parson couldn't even begin to conceptualize.