[He's angry and he's hurting and he hates this, hates what he's being shown and hates what he's hearing. He wants to curl in on himself, away from the lashing out, both giving and receiving.

It's that familiar voice that he reaches out to with desperation, holding onto it so very, very tightly. As he can expect, it's always, always him.]

Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking—!! I don't care what you want!! I wanna go back - I don't wanna be here again!!

[The peace has passed, the memory of hundreds of years of nothingness pressing down on him instead. He doesn't want to be alone again, even if it hurts to be with others.]

I'm leaving!!