So many intrusive sounds are creeping into his ear these days that the strange static fails to unsettle him. For a second, he wonders if it means the whispered voices that have stuck to him like a shadow have finally run out of shit to say. Bruises to prod at. The harder he tries to detach himself from everything — to somehow float above thought and feeling — the harsher the whispers become.

"I've been trying to help out. Around the castle and in Nott."

Delivered like a report to a teacher.

Not for the first time, he wonders if Lucifer suspects what happened that fatal night in Nocwich. He's never said anything about it, but Wilhelm can't help but dissect his every word, his tone, his expression. Is he just trying to make sure Wilhelm stays in the good graces of the faction's leadership, or does he know something?

Everyone will find out eventually, a voice assures maliciously. His gaze wobbles away.