[ Ah, the blood. The viscera. It's something he knows well, the attachment to the warp. Every time he sees it, he is reminded of those times on the Black Ships, or that time when he'd seen the remains of his ship. It makes prickling pick up at the back of his neck (or, perhaps, it is a sign of warning that Heinrix foolishly does not pick up on) as he follows him to the garden.

Sebastian seems comfortable here already, which is, at least, quite good. As much as he does not mind introducing himself, he is also disinclined to play guide, as well.

He keeps his hands behind his back, head tilted toward him with pleasant, but focused, interest. ]

Quite so, yes. Particularly for someone like me. [ A moment of consideration, but he has never hid who he is. ] I use my psychic abilities for the good of the Imperium, but they come with a cost every time I use them. I am sanctioned to do so, but that does not mean that I do not feel the temptation to succumb to the forces of chaos, should I falter.