Osiris leaned back on his chaise lounge while Saint-14's Ghost hovered over the end table behind him.

"Where was I?" the former Warlock inquired.

"…I lived for knowledge alone," Geppetto prompted. She flashed her iris red, then green. She was recording.

"Ah, yes. In those days, I thought an unlimited lifespan would allow me to unravel the mysteries of the universe. Illuminate even the Darkness."

"And all those centuries, I thought I knew my own heart," he continued. "But, in retrospect, my devotion was always in competition with the unknown. Now, my dearest Saint, I'm ashamed to admit that I loved you with only half my heart."

Osiris's voice quieted. "It wasn't until Sagira's death, and the remaking of my own mortality, that I realized the difference between knowledge and wisdom."

"Now, stripped of my Light, deprived of the health and vigor I once took for granted, I've come to learn that the only mystery that ever truly mattered was you. What you were thinking and feeling. And the depth of emotion we shared."

"I once tore apart the very fabric of time because I couldn't abide a reality without you in it. I'd rather live one short life together than an eternity apart. And with the little time I have left—"

"THEY DIDN'T HAVE THE DRINK YOU LIKE," Saint shouted down the hallway, slamming the door behind him. "So I got one of everything."

Saint rounded the corner with a sack of groceries in hand and stopped short. "What's happening here? Thrilling Geppetto with more of your memoirs?" he teased.

"Nothing important, now that you're here," Osiris replied. "Come. Pour us some libations and tell me about your day."