Detaching himself, or at least his mind, from the small corner of this plane that was causing him the most distress, Nathaniel stared down into the palms of his hands while he listened to Cels talk. It helped him think. He was vaguely aware that, with his feet placed evenly apart and his fingers laced together palm-up in front of him, he may look a little like he was meditating. He supposed he was meditating on this subject. Rather, he was trying to. It was a difficult subject to keep thinking about without letting his mind fly off into the past. A glance at the small blonde made him wonder how old she was, whether she had lost anyone to the closed gates… At the same time, her mention of brutality becoming its own entity left him shaking his head absent-mindedly. “No, I would have known before anybody else did.” It wasn’t as much a muttered reassurance as it was Nathaniel quietly crossing that idea off the list -- even though Cels already had, more or less.
Her question startled him out of this thoughs, and left him staring at a point somewhere beyond her face. It wasn’t something he had considered yet because he wouldn’t allow his mind to go there, but the answer was in the air around him. “Yes.” Nathaniel frowned slightly at the note of surprise in his voice, then moved on. “Having nixed any possibility of demonic presence or brutality becoming its own entity… Violence has to be committed against someone, requiring at least two to be alive. Violent intentions don’t go unnoticed by me either. But the more violence committed reduces the number of available targets until the strongest survive. In short, there could never be enough people in that building to generate what I am feeling.” He paused, stuffing his hands into his pockets so he didn’t fidget. He really didn’t like that he didn’t know where this was going. At least he knew how to deal with a Violence.