[Recognition warmed Oscar's wearied expression for a moment while he stared at Peter with wide eyes-- recognizing the shadows of multitudes if only on an unconscious level. The ghosts between Peter and whomever else lurked in there cast a familiar pall that was not unlike the ghosts of Trench.

Or, the ghosts of multitudes that lurked in the dark places he couldn't touch in his own soul.

Brows furrowing, he really focused on Peter from the ether. Even if for the moment he couldn't place the face, he recognized two facts:

1) This was someone who was okay to trust.
2) This was not Ozma.

Struggling for words and voice, he finally managed to get his thoughts and tongue in enough of an alignment to explain:]

She is the witch cursed with immortality who destroyed humanity thousands of years ago, the one who creates the Grimm beasts who hunt down our people daily, and who is the reason why people my age and younger enter combat academies to learn how to fight.

She wants to destroy Remnant-- because that's the only way she can destroy herself and find release from her own eternal suffering.

She cannot die. Nothing I can do can stop her. Nothing is going to end.