"To be honest that's prolly what my death count is about like."

He pulls a face, mouth quirking to the side. It's not a brag. It's an exhausted statement that he's calloused to the idea of death but at the same time has burned those fraying loose ends so the rope behind him doesn't unravel.

"Didn't particularly enjoy it." He at least has the decency to say. Only a very chosen few felt memorably good to end.

"Okay, I gotta ask. Is that figurative, you talkin' about the worst version of yourself, or a whole other person. 'Cause both them types o' things happen."