"Ah, yes, the 'rest of us.' What a day trip that would be," Zagreus jeers, hiding from her attempts at turning this around on him behind a wall of unseemly glee. Unsuccessfully, as he quickly finds himself mentally defending his stance, which naturally spills over into verbal petulance.

"It isn't a question of, of antitheticalness. It's just a question of freedom. I'm the fish in a bowl too small to get up the momentum to fling itself out," there to probably suffocate slowly and angrily on a rug, but who's counting. "I resent being made to exist like this anywhere. And I don't really care what you will or won't allow." That's a bridge to burn after it's been built. There's that insistence on linearity again, just getting into everything.