[Give her a few moments, so she can cry. Once she's able to speak, she faces the screen again, face still wet. But... there's still no hate. There is no despising, no loathing. Just a pure innocent sadness and pity. Yes, these things were terrible - some of them beyond forgivable, she's not thinking he's entirely blameless.

And yet...]

What is this... What is this world of truth, that you think you can find... with all of that blood?

[It's not an accusing tone. She honestly wants to know what he believes in, maybe so can help him see the true light. Or, even stranger... she just doesn't have the ability to hate.]