[ There's a little twist of the lips again, one that says "been there, done that" but isn't altogether happy about it. He's lit somebody on fire once, and is the one who remembers more of it. ]

Starting over doesn't erase the things that I've done. Even if neither of us remember, the marks are still there.

[ On the soul. On the... wrist that he idly rubs with his other hand. In unconscious thought and gut feelings, it's there. ]

I guess I'd just feel guilty about it. Things will carry over to new game plus.