"You're conflating An End and The End, Beast." He fires back, before he can think better of it (again, caution and prudence tend to somewhat go to the wind where his Greatest Enemy is concerned). "You should know better than that by now."

There's a pause, where he considers her words; outside this strange shared space he shifts, from languid lounge to sat up, on the edge of the bed, thumb running over the edge of the crystal as he holds it.

"... I asked you, when we last faced each other: if there is No End, what then? Do you recall what you told me?"

It's not not an accusation, at least in part, and not not a tiny bit mocking - really, what does she expect him to do here? As well as they know each other, she should know by now he is and always has been slave to his own nature.