There's a faint sigh from where Xehanort sits. "Then don't make it a facade, if that's the issue. If your friends are the sort to mock any kind of art in any form simply because it isn't grandiose enough, they need a swift kick in the pants, not encouragement or agreement."

His tone is a little sour, something in there touched a nerve even a little bit. Life, especially stolen life such as what they did, was to be lived - or insult that which was taken. "And if I might be so bold, this.. disdain you keep demonstrating for anything un-Ascian doesn't speak well for your position as an Emissary or our people."

'Our people'. What an odd thought, even now.