That earns a quiet snort, almost inaudible, but it could be dry amusement. Yes, alright, the void does often invite some rather bleak outlooks. But so does war. So does life. Anyone who's had to survive life rather than live it knows what the black represents, and how vast everything seems, how small their own place within it.

"No. The emptiness doesn't trouble me."

Perhaps that's telling in his own right. There's some comfort to be found in the unending stretches of nothing between the little dots of something. Something calming, perhaps. There's peace in it. No war, no struggle for purpose or identity.

An end. Something not yet earned, but visible in the distance.