Instantly her fingers flutter to the inside of her elbow; the needle scars there run deep, and no wonder. Dedue had seen her prepped for a procedure only once, and there had been so many procedures...

She looks away and flags the bartender down for another glass of vermouth, "And one for my friend." Still idly rubbing at her arm with her thumb in slow, circling motions.

"...Understand that what you've told me beggars belief," she begins, softly. "Just as I'm certain Rapture must have beggared yours, once. But where my former home was the product solely of mortal insanity, what you describe...seems vast, and horrifying in a distinctly immortal way."