Cole looks at the hand on his shoulder and, for a brief moment, his head dips towards it, cool cheek touching Ben's hand before he curls a bit tighter.

Is it a spirit? It feels like a spirit. It reminds him of Faith, powerful and potent, but maybe it isn't?

"I'm not scared for me," Cole whispers. "Won't care about me, Compassion, passionless, pathetic, passive, prone to Despair. Something's in her. Something she doesn't hear yet. But it will wake up and she'll remember and human souls should be in human bodies and spirits shouldn't be. Something not human is in there with her. I don't want it to kill everyone. Won't want me, demons want souls. Spirits aren't souls."

As his language grows less poetic and abstract, there's a faint darkening of his skin, something slightly less than translucent. "Justice was trapped. Anders offered himself. But Anders was angry and Justice felt the injustice and they became angrier together, indignant, fuelling each other until the unthinkable becomes reasonable and everyone around them suffers."

Anders and Vengeance had crossed that line. It had taken years, for sure, but they had done things that couldn't be conscienable to Justice, only Vengeance. A spirit healer had killed innocents for a great cause.

He looks at Ben. "There's something else there. Not Ami. Powerful. Slumbering. What sleeps will wake."