Nemo looked at the man, a blank expression on his face before his head cocked to the side in a rather unsettling motion. "Eleven years, eight months... and ten days. My memory is very good, and I've got quite the memory of you." The light was dim in the room, but his heavy runic metal binds could still be faintly seen attached to him. At his neck, hands, and legs. "Nothing bad of course. You gave me the fight I had always dreamed of. It was... beautiful. I can't have hard feelings against art can I?" He explained. 

"You've given me the gift of a very long time to think things over, Felix. Eleven years and counting in a pitch black box can really help you find your inner self." He added.