[It's more than enough for Diluc to being to piece things together. To stitch the scraps of information that Scaramouche has given him here to the sparse amount that he already knew and confirm some rumours and suspicions that he had already heard from others. The Sixth Harbinger is easily the one he knows the least about, overall, but this conversation has been... strangely illuminating.

And strange, generally.

Diluc's expression flickers, pinches slightly, at the final thing the other says. Those words hit a little too close to home for his liking, though he doesn't expect it was intended.

The feeling of everything being a lie? Something he understands all too well.

He waits a few moments longer before he curls his fingers in and tucks the handkerchief against his palm, bringing his arm back in towards himself again. Of all the directions he would have expected this to go, this was not even close.]

This thing that isn't working, it's supposed to replace the heart you don't have.

[The heart he... claims not to have - something else perplexing, because there is a lot of pain and emotion being shown here for someone who is entirely heartless. Perhaps the only thing keeping Diluc here is curiosity, but his voice is edged with almost-kindness.

Almost. He doesn't trust Scaramouche any more than Scaramouche trusts him.]

Someone had to be cruel to lie to you about something as important as that.