"All of them," said the Remnant, and then raised an eyebrow in an expression precisely the same as the original professor's. "You doubt my professionalism, Scarab?" If one didn't know better, one might have thought it was the professor.

Gabriel did know better. He couldn't hear the conversation through the door, but half-infused with the walls as he was, he felt the vibrations of their voices and translated them. Only half infused, though. He had to make sure he was still breathing. Bad enough, what Sanguine had already seen. Bad enough what he would see when they put the Remnant onto him. Maybe it would blow his cover. Maybe it wouldn't. He didn't know yet, and it didn't matter. His reaction would be the same. That ... thing should not exist.

"You promised me Gabriel," the Remnant was saying. "I fulfilled my end of the bargain, and I daresay you could use the insights of a mind-reader. Well? Shall we?"

And so it comes.