She is not the first to recognize him and call him by name. Ren gets to his feet when she speaks, dressed in spare clothes provided by Veronica, and looking more than a little on edge still. His gaze had been focused on the curtains covered in writing, his thoughts on every unsettling thing he had learned so far.

Clearly this is another who knew him before, and yet again she lacks the fear or rage he expects to see in the eyes of most who would know him by his face and not his uniform.

"Ren." He corrects her. If he was going to take any titles it would be Lord, not Mister. But the correction is a distracted afterthought. The respect would be appreciated were he not so unbalanced by the series of events leading up to their meeting.

"My memories of this place were taken." He says it with emphasis. Taken, not lost or forgotten. Someone had ripped them from his mind and for now he thinks he knows by whom. "I don't know your name."