“So, simple enough: sounds like we just need to manufacture another continent-wide catalyst. No big deal at all.”

It’s the driest of jokes, and perhaps an offering of an out: a loosening of the strings. His expression is rueful; it’s a weary acknowledgment of that long uphill slog sitting ahead of the other templars. An uphill walk Vanya’s already done.

“Regardless. I appreciate you taking the time to come by today, and fill me in about it all. Correcting the fact that I wasn’t able to speak to you about it before.”

For, y’know. Demon-shaped reasons.