"...if we cock it up, badly. Red lyrium growing out of everything and everyone. We'll all be useless or thralls or ghouls. ...I imagine. If we want Corypheus to stay out of our heads, we'll need to find and deal with him sooner or later. He's a right tosser, but at least he's no archdemon."

Alive, and corrupted, and good for no one at all. The thought becomes a knot of dread in his gut, and he chooses not to consider how Teren can predict this future.

"...in that case," he replies, perhaps a few weighted moments later than necessary, "I should continue my research, in hopes of identifying some means of protecting us from further corruption." He looks back to his work again; it's not a dismissal, for he welcomes her company, but he doesn't do well with too much talk for too long.