[He thinks, while speaking to an Assassin. Whose thing is essentially selective murder. He's already preparing a message to those of the Brotherhood's chapter here in Vaikuntha.

There's an affirmative noise, before he pauses, and a chuckle escapes him.]

You say as though we haven't wished there's a thing called soundproofing because of one of our housemates playing his sitar at 2am. [Seriously, who does that?] But, it is our blades that will join yours.

[Yes, ours.]