...What, now you're going to tell me it never ended?

[Frustrated, he rubs the side of his head. Inconsistencies keep popping up, and he doesn't know what he should be doing about them.]

If we start comparing notes on the entire war, we're probably going to be standing here in the middle of toxic flowers for days.

[...He realizes, after a moment, that leaving it at that without spoiling the much-anticipated ending would be too mean even for him.]

...We succeeded, by the way.