[His feet keep swinging, and Zagreus looks away toward the horizon. He somehow expects the sun to rise there, something he knows stems from how it hasn't quite sunk in that he's not in the actual underworld and expecting to be released.]

I'm not quite sure, to be honest. [He's from a place like this, and he's not supposed to die. The Styx engulfed him once again, and again and again, and he'd rise from the darkness onto the glistening marble halls of the house again, leaving scorch marks and blood splatters on the corridors.

Until he didn't.] I come from a place not unlike this one, you see. So it's all very confusing to me.