Cassandra: If you are to fight alongside us, Cole, I expect you to follow orders.

　　Cassandra: The Inquisitor believes you wish to help, but I will not allow you to threaten innocents.

　　Cole: Yes. Help the hurt, save the small. If I become a demon, cut me down.

　　Cassandra: Do not doubt me. I will do it.

　　Cole: Good.

　　Cassandra: You're... serious, aren't you?

　　Cole: Yes. I hope you are, too.

　　Cole: You're a better Seeker than Lambert. You care about everyone.

　　Cassandra: You knew Lord Seeker Lambert?

　　Cole: I killed him. He cared more about stopping mages than protecting people.

　　Cassandra: You killed the Lord Seeker.

　　Cole: Pathetic mages. Crush them at Andoral's Reach or starve them out. Doesn't matter which.

　　Cole: I need an example, Seekers succeeding, seizing power. Overthrow the Divine, triumphant in the eyes of the Maker.

　　Cassandra: I... am uncertain whether to believe you.

　　Cole: You believe I killed him.

　　Cassandra: Cole, do you have any proof about what you claim Lord Seeker Lambert did?

　　Cole: I was there. I didn't need proof.

　　Cassandra: But he could have been brought to justice. There are rules...

　　Cole: He used rules to hurt people. He always found a way to be right, even when he killed my friend.

　　Cassandra: You had a friend?

　　Cole: A pretty templar. She died protecting Rhys and me, but she got better.

　　Cassandra: I... don't even want to know what that means.

　　Cassandra: Cole, you killed Lord Seeker Lambert so he wouldn't hurt people.

　　Cole: Yes. Thank you for remembering. Sometimes people forget me.

　　Cassandra: Is that why you went to Therinfal?

　　Cole: Most sounded the same, but the leaders they listened to were hurt, hollowed, sick with a new song.

　　Cole: They swallowed lies until they sang with darker music. The sound hollowed them.

　　Cole: I wanted them to stop me if I harmed people, but I had to stop them instead.

　　Cole: Oh, wait. You had a question.

　　Cassandra: Perhaps we should think of something more... pleasant.

　　Cole: Like helping people?

　　Cassandra: Yes, like that.

　　Cole: Oh. That makes more sense.

　　Cassandra: Why do you look at me when you say that?

　　Cole: You found faith, not just a feeling. It was a spirit.

　　Cassandra: We do not need to speak of this further.

　　Cole: I'm a spirit that touched a body, you're a body that touched a spirit. We're the same but backwards!

　　Cassandra: Please, stop.

　　Cole: It's you, Cassandra.

　　Cole: Breathing from the belly, cold air warmed, stones beneath me, candle before me, Maker all around.

　　Cole: Then nothing, empty, I'm cut, cauterized, then caught, cleansed by a light that carries me home.

　　Cole: You're thinking backwards. You don't have faith because of the spirit. The spirit came because of your faith.

　　Cole: It's you.

　　Cassandra: Thank you, Cole. I appreciate that.