[ He nods in absent agreement with her remark about the stars. It is a pity that the native citizens here are blinded to the beauty of their world. ]

I have as many titles and names as lives I had to live. [ He paces back towards her tent, flicking his hand dismissively. ] But my original title is Emet-Selch, as I told you. Architect, Angel of Truth, denizen of the Underworld, and so on and so forth.

[ He'd rather talk about those than admit to his dissatisfaction with the current state of things. He doesn't feel like having that tired argument again. ]

You wanted to see my city, did you not? [ There is ample empty space up here. Hell, he can have it hover in the air if he so pleases, but he chooses to snap his fingers at a vacant, flat piece of ground and bring back his small-scale illusion of Amaurot. ]