“Twisting into something hideous. It’s the physical embodiment of what he feels within. … He is obsessed, fixated, on the contradiction of gods and mortals. If mortals have capacity for wisdom, why do they so often fail? If gods see their actions as wicked, why do they tolerate and forgive? How can gods and mortals seem so different, yet so alike? What is the point of it all? Zamasu seeks beauty. Yet, look at his body, distorted by hatred and rage. I wonder — is that really the result that he craved? A broken, misshapen god alone in a vacant cosmos. How fulfilled will he be then?”