Lazarus looks a little dazed at the revelation of what the invocation actually is. It's beyond him, like so many things that the more powerful Numbered get back. As if often the case, he is baffled and paralyzed by the description, but he nods and smiles all the same, or at least gives it his best effort.

"If it helps, who am I to condemn it?" he asks, taking a deep drag on his cigarette and ashing on the pavement. "Courage won't be in sort supply, but I worry that strength will be."