Kalak (thinking)(whispered like a mantra, fearful): What If don’t go back...If I die it just happens, I’m sent back, but I lived this time. What if- No, stop it. These are perilous thoughts, traitorous thoughts.

Kalak (thinking)(musing a little confused) Why..? If the others are dead the blades would have vanished...these are weapons beyond even shardblades. These are unique...precious.

Kalak(thinking):(starting to freak out, scared) how long? How long has it been? Centuries perhaps millennia of torture...It’s so hard to keep track, those fires, those hooks, digging into his flesh anew each day. Searing the skin off his leg then burning the fat, then driving to the bone. I can smell it. Almighty I can smell it!