"If I don't, then who does?" he asks evenly. "What you saw was one planet of many, of I don't even know how many. And that's not even, god, that's not even going into when I was on a higher plane, well within my limits to put a stop to what I'd caused, and I didn't."

He spreads his hands wide, a gesture of helpless acceptance.

"There are galaxies of context here, and I honestly don't think there's a way to neatly summarize it. I don't compartmentalize it and I've tried not to forget, but there's," he stops to swallow, hard, "there's just so much of it." There's no room to compound thousands of suffering lifetimes into a head that's only intended for one.