[ Nobody who has stepped on him in the past — used him in order to get ahead in some fashion — is better than him. It's always been the contrary; a display of some of the worst humanity has to offer, occasionally disgusting, always unfounded. Amos doesn't react to Set treating him as a stepping stool in this mindscape but to raise his hackles and stay otherwise grounded — reacting to a threat that hasn't done anything to him yet, but holds the potential to make it worse. A defensive, defiant position.

Because Set is, indeed, insane; because divinity isn't real, some sick joke that Amos can't make heads nor tales of, and so assigns it to the mark of a madman. (He is blind to what it could be a cover for, both unwilling and unable to pry deeper.) ]

And this is what acceptance looks like to you, huh. [ Lording, arrogant— ] How long until you drive them away? How long until you ensure those genuine connections don't want you to be a part of their lives? Because I am in the real world — [ down here, accepting of his position, his standing in life — ] and that's what happens to people like you. Either you drive them away, or you get them killed. There's no in between. There never is.

If that's what you need in order to be better, then good luck with that.