The laugh that escapes Devin's mouth is mirthless and bitter, a hollow-sounding thing. X hasn't been here very long, or he wouldn't need to ask that question.

"Whatever it wants," he mutters, barely keeping control over his voice. Books-- focus on the books, not what X may see of him. "The Dreaming has no qualms, what with not being a living thing with a sense of morals. It has a habit of... bringing to light what should remain in shadow. Secrets have no meaning, no matter your intentions."