[L's response certainly isn't devoid of compassion, entirely; it's just careful, buttoned-up, controlled. He reins in most of his emotions this way, as well as his responses to emotions, because once one has lost control of that, hasn't he functionally lost control of everything else? He knows that while Myr likely doesn't feel that willful deadening to the extent the detective does, this partial breakdown can't be a source of pride for him. He listens, as neutrally as possible, withholding his judgment, because they've had so many conversations. It's taken this long for even the topic of Myr's blindness and its cause to be broached at all. Therefore, it must be a significant burden, one that Myr was strong to carry so long and so silently.

Maybe it's brave, to take off the mask to this extent. Perhaps its courage that L does not, in fact, possess himself.]

Was the sight of them so much more terrible than the knowledge that they existed?

[It's not a challenge, but a sincere question.]

There are theoretical creatures... Eldritch horrors, ancient and terrifying gods that are supposed to be beyond the comprehension of a human, to the point where just looking at them provokes madness. Is... was that what you're referring to? Or something like it?

[I'm trying to understand, as someone who would look.]