[Intellectually, he understands. He does. He's read stories about people like Kida; the last beacon of hope for their people, the champion of the lost, the brave hero who's the chosen one. But they never have happy endings, not in the real stories -- the stories Bruttenholm collected and the files the research department kept, not the sanitized versions they made into children's movies.

So he still worries. He doesn't think he has that much conviction in his own soul, and is sure he'd have cracked under the pressure by now, were he Kida. He's already basically cracked under the pressure of a responsibility he doesn't even have.

Hellboy is quiet as Kida trails off, thinking. He knows he can't tell her to take a breather and let it sit on the back burner for awhile. That's not Kida. Her conviction is what attracts him to her; she's so sure in herself and in her goals that he feels better about his own life being perpetually adrift and without meaning.

He takes a breath.] I want you to let me share this. [He pauses, because it's hard to make this not just sound like empty compassion.] You're the only one of your people here. It's too much to carry by yourself. Anything I can do to make this easier for you...