"Better." He's looking up now, head no longer bowed but not really seeing the horror in front of him, either. He's thinking. Thinking of his teacher. Cort, who knew very well how Roland would end up. Wouldn't he have approved of this? Of his student becoming a weapon even more capable and deadly than the one Cort had been able to mold?

Not all the words he's hearing ring true. Some of them hit just far enough off-center to send his instincts to warning him that something's off here. But it doesn't matter. If there's some catch here, some consequence - what does it matter? If there'd ever been a time for shying away from the consequences of his own greater purpose, he doesn't remember it.

He's never been one to dither over decisions. Not when he knows very well what he needs. This place has shown him that. Maybe reliving all those horrors was a gift, after all. Of sorts. It's shown him what he needs.

"Tell me what I'm to do." His eyes are focused now, sharp, seeing the horror im front of him and accepting it. "What do you need?"