As he is led to the bedside, spoken to in such a way, and openly berated, it feels as though something that he has been trying to keep at bay finally shatters.  

His gaze slowly, quietly, shifts to Howl. A white tear slides down the slides of his face - it bears the signature look of the Innocence that has afflicted him - and then another, and then the next. There seems to be no end to them.

"You think of me as so unfeeling," Emet-Selch says bitterly. "That I would sit on a throne and not suffer the weight of despair of what has been lost? For me, for you, for all who draw breath? That making the world right again does not consume my every thought?"

Emet-Selch thrusts a hand outward and the whole of everything around them dissipates into wisps of black. The flurry of darkness surrounds them, builds upon itself, and leaves them standing in a shallow pool of inky darkness bordered by the silhouettes of ruined spires.

"Then let me share with you my misery." He says before their Communion is flooded with the same heartbreak he had felt so long ago - As stood and watched as his world burned.