Vargas tilted his head a little at the last thought that struck him, a sort of melancholy, wry "Caves, if only." He gave a brief snort (of amusement, this time) and settled down, a little, now that the hybrid seemed unlikely to flee. Then, he listened--and for a moment he almost appeared to be only a statue of a horrific monster.
Ahh... so it did know some of the cave's purpose. They're making one another..? Half of him was taken aback: in some sense it was an affront. Yet... it could be interesting, couldn't it--seeing what came up? They'd had long enough to create. Perhaps the Masters were allowing this to happen simply because some more fascinating beasts came about this way. They'd had their time with one method... why not test another?
But letting the creations run wild? Vargas looked over Aure, studying him carefully.
"Yes. They were the unworthy," he responded, matter-of-factly. "In the beginning, many were made, but not all were strong. And the weak were useless for our purposes. The unworthy were destroyed--but sometimes, they hid," he went on, turning to nod toward the bones littering the ground. "I believe they thought this was the last place we would look for them; it became a hunting ground, as well as a grave." The big creature had no emotion in his voice, no tone. "Of those tested, some were wretched things! They did not make it. Others were strong. They fought, and they survived," and now his tone did hold something. It could've been admiration, maybe, or pride.
"But to find you living here," Vargas continued, his heavy head swinging down to stare at Aure. "To find that you creatures have CHOSEN to live here. How can you flourish among the bones of the failed dead..?"
Do they not scream? Does your magic not find their lives of terror, of pain? How can you bear it? he thought, but did not say. He was baffled by it all. These Gembound were lesser than he, yes; but why did they choose this life..?
Everything was still exceptionally confusing to him; it was beginning to piece itself into a sort of sense, a new normal baseline, a new world. But the destruction of his old still baffled him. He could grasp that the weak made their home here, perhaps--even the strong?--and even that they lived freely now, their very lives their test. But where did that leave him..? What was he to Oversee? What of the tests, the regimented lives, the cullings?
What even was his purpose, then, anymore?