He felt his mouth quirk, before he stood up, and rolled his shoulders. He stared at a certain point in the room, before a thought brought the pieces of the armor he had worn back into reality, but around where he had removed them, like they had been dropped rather than reabsorbed. "Jashah, go take a good, long, hard look at those pieces of armor, and ask yourself two questions. Will you commit me back into that prison, of death, terror, confusion, and pain? And will you do so without everyone else getting to toss their two cents in?"<br/><br/>The smell of more than five millennia of existing in that armor began to permeate the room, and he stretched again, reveling in the feel of fresh air across his body, of unfiltered light across his face. He also knew she could feel that enjoyment in him, as well as all the death, pain, and destruction in the armor that he had endured.