Emet-Selch takes full advantage of his superior height to look down his nose at Rhea'li. It's an expression that has only shown itself once before: in the Capital, in front of the doors to the fiery, recreation of the hell which Amaurot had become.

Instead of geometric patterns, one could almost swear there are faint, metallic gleam of silver threads spreading from his back...

"They would have died either way, Rhea'li. That rubble would not have protected them from these winds. All I did was hasten the inevitable."