[Ciel turns the recorder on and stares into it blankly. He is fiddling with the
blue diamond ring on his thumb absently, clearly weighing his words before he speaks.]
Surely there is someone in this City that can offer a passage home. I can give you payment of a sort.
[He sighs, his expression not flickering in the least.]
Sutcliff, I would think that someone of your caliber could give me what I want? [A small smirk quirks his lips.] Or are the stories surrounding the Death Gods myths?
[Sitting back in his chair, the Earl lifts a single candle. The flame flickers as if it is about to go out. With a barely noticeable exhale, Ciel ends its short life, cooling the wick. Darkness enshrouds Ciel as he lowers the now useless candle.]