[Such a straightforward young woman. It has been such a very long time since he encountered one who was so earnest, in a way that is so surprisingly, so likely to catch him without reply. Most mortals have long since become predictable to him.

But then, he has his doubts, that Pyra is anything that might be called mortal, at least any moreso than he is. He has very many questions, and eventually he will turn to seeking his answers.

For now, he hardly reacts to the hand on his chest. While she may not be able to feel much of the warmth of him or his heartbeat through the layers of fabric, it does indisputably rise and fall with purely natural breathing, a slightly higher rise just before he speaks.]

Perhaps, perhaps not. I was hardly the only one who gave shape to that summoning, after all. If there is a piece of me in Him, then it is surely no more or less a piece than there is of Lahabrea and all the others. If anything, the piece of Elidibus might be largest, considering that he speaks for Zodiark in His slumber.

[Strangely, for all that there might normally be confusion about which pronouns belong to which in that sentence, the meaning is perfectly clear, almost as though the capital letters could be heard.

A quirk of his lips, into an amused line.]

If it is me you wish to know, then I confess the best source remains in front of you.