[He shakes his head as he lays out the items in his own arms across the bedspread - the two masks of his own, the staff, the shard, and the strange third mask that seemed to haunt Viktor.]

That's not it, my friend.

[The staff is handed over to Viktor - a little larger than a flashlight with a flame-colored core at its top surrounded by metallic shielding. It looks like it should illuminate, though it's gone dim and doesn't seem to have a visible way to turn on from the exterior alone.]

Were I still to have a hammer in my hands, I would offer it instead. No one will question a shattered mask being disposed from a maskmaker.

[If Viktor wants a blind eye and someone to cover, then he all he needs to do is swing.]