Hythlodaeus goes cold, feeling a strange emptiness open up within his soul. Another half. Another half.

"'Twas not enough..."

His voice is quiet, horrified. The decision they'd made was not an easy one, not by any sane measure, yet it had to be made, lest all of their kind perished. It was then that Hythlodaeus first started doubting the choice he'd made when it came to the position of the Architect: the Convocation had to lead the people still, oversee the sacrifices, however much their own hearts bled. And it was his choice that, even if unbeknownst to Hythlodaeus at the time, put that responsibility upon Hades.

He swallows with difficulty. A part of him wants to ask why, why did that tragedy have to befall their brethren at all, why was half the survivors not enough to restore their world, why would their souls never be granted the peace of knowing that they did not give themselves up for nothing... but Hythlodaeus knows that it would be too cruel a question to ask his friend. He strokes Hades's fingers with his thumbs, a helpless little gesture to give some, any measure of comfort.

"What happened then?.."