[Drained energy to power a binding, huh. Yunlan looks down at his notes, tapping the tip of his pen against a period. His face is setting into stone.]

You know, I'm just a dead man, but I've heard from a couple of gods now that we're "trapped here."

[Are the soulless the remains of people drained of their self to power this binding? He doesn't elaborate -- Shen Wei's clearly smart enough to follow that line from A to B.]

-- That could just be a coincidence, though.

[It could be something else powering the trap, and the piles of bled-dry husks of people accumulating in remote bits of the Western District could be totally unrelated. But that's a hell of a coincidence.]