He wants, desperately, for there to be meaning to his resurrection. He was a romantic, once, even if many of the romances were toxic or otherwise ill-advised – he had loved, and loved deeply. It would be the fitting story, then: that he came back for someone special, to save them, or to be with them.
But anyone he’s ever loved is dead.
(He assumes this – vainly ignores how fraught Beqanna is with immortality, and does not know that the gates of the Afterlife once swung open.)
And there is no reason behind the resurrection, none he can tell. He went to death willingly, had given what he could to save his daughter, and had dreamed of all their faces before passing. He remembers that, still – the warmth of her small body, the cold of the winter air, then nothing. Easy.
He wants a reason. He wants logic. He gets nothing.
She asks a similar question - how instead of why - but he is just as incapable of answering this one.
“I don’t know,” he says honestly, “I just woke up one day.”
A weak answer. But then, he is a weak man.
“I’m Cancer,” he adds then, and asks a question of his own, “do you hear ghosts often?”
you ask me about love and I tell you about violence
@Narya