[ Please, Rembrandt, you're practically a secret factory. But he receives a slight, worried smile in response to his laugh anyway. ]

Point taken. There's at least one treasure out there I'd give anything for—and, sometimes, I want it so badly it even hurts. [ His smile fades as he speaks. Then, with a sigh, he leans back against the confessional wall. ]

At the same time, it doesn't feel fair when with a wave their hand and the flash of some lights someone can magically tell you what your deepest, darkest desires are. Especially when you can't do the same for them.