"The records confirm you lived on Earth, in London, in the year 1888. The records also indicate that you vanished, suddenly, without a trace, on November 11, 1888. It's a very interesting date, Mr. Sebastian. The morning after the last of a string of murders on the East End."
"The city was drowning in decay. Chaos, immorality. A message needed to be sent, etched in blood, for all the world to see. A warning. In the pursuit of my holy cause, I... did things. Terrible things. Unspeakable things. The world condemned me. But it didn't matter, because I believed I was right and the world was wrong. I believed I was the divine messenger. I believed I was--"
"I was... found by the Vorlons. They showed me the terrible depths of my mistake. My crimes, my presumption. I have done four hundred years of penance in their service. A job for which they said I was ideally suited. Now, perhaps, they will finally let me die."
"I think that might be wise."
"Good luck to you in your holy cause, Captain Sheridan. May your choices have better results than mine. Remembered not as a messenger, remembered not as a reformer, not as a prophet, not as a hero, not even as Sebastian. Remembered only as Jack."