Caim had maybe seen Phoenix once or twice in passing, but he was not acquainted with the man. He'd seen him over the network, and had heard him comment on the various murders that Caim had committed. When the prince thought about it, it was genuinely a bit amusing to see how everyone else scattered about like mice and he sat through it all calm and composed as could be. No, Caim had not come forward and gladly proclaimed his victory. Killing wasn't much of a victory. The only thing he got out of it was somehow sating the agony in the centre of his being.

And now he couldn't even have that. It didn't matter what world he was in, it seemed. He was going to be tortured for things that were constantly out of his control. He was going to be every world's ridiculous pawn. He was born a pawn into a land that could never atone for its sins and he would die a pawn in a jail cell in a land that was just going to continue punishing him.

Caim wrote for Phoenix, choosing not to rely on the infrequent inhabitants that could actually read lips. When he was done, he pushed it forward for the former lawyer to see.

Hello.

Why yes. He could be civil.