Something about the kettle coming slowly to a head as Yellow sounds out his own thoughts feels oddly poetic, as Arthur removes it from the heat before it becomes a truly awful screech.

"John took my eyes, to begin with," he says. "But along our travels, he earned the right to... to keep them, I suppose. We didn't want to be separated. I relied on him as much as he relied on me." He can't dare say 'perhaps more so' out loud, but it felt like it some days.

"Larson... has never sacrificed anything of himself. He'd never be so... vulnerable. He'd never let himself get hurt in pursuit of his power, not in a way where he loses out for it."