Mm, and what is misery, but a tool to keep the masses under the heel of that which seeks to subjugate them, yes?

[ He says it, and his tone is... light, almost like it's a joke, but it's wrapped around a core of iron, that bar of the cold reality that Silco all-too-well knew. It was something he was so painfully familiar with, and his lip curled into a sharp, hard-edged smile. ]

Did you ever think that the dead would look like this? Masses trying to dance to fight off the encroaching malaise?

I don't think I ever considered that it would look like this.