[ Arthur had a follow-up question in mind, a real stumper for someone making his story up on the fly: and what did you think had happened to me? But he should probably know by now that if he has a plan for how a conversation will go, it will immediately get derailed.

Jesus. Steve has never breathed a hint of any of this to him before. And maybe that should be a red flag, but the choked-off emotion in Steve's voice is real, and the details of what he's describing...

Empathy from Arthur can be a weird business, and an all-or-nothing one as well; Steve's story sets the dial to 'all'. ]

That... doesn't sound crazy. [ Arthur could say something vague like 'look where we are' and it would probably be reassurance enough, but it also feels like a coward's option, after Steve opened up about a subject so clearly sore.

He wonders if it got into Steve's head. He doesn't ask, but he wonders. ]

There are... things like that in my world too. Things that... that control people, that whisper in people's ears, and make them do things. [ Arthur's left hand makes a fist. He's audibly navigating the edge of a bottomless pit here, and has no intention of jumping into any specifics, but... there it is.

When he continues, his voice is suddenly harsh. ]

I have no. Fucking. Patience. No fucking quarter. For anything that does that to a person.