Zagreus doesn't care about any houses' personalities or motivations or favourite colours. He's just sick of being involved with them, eternally sick of the entire notion. For instance, it doesn't make a bit of difference that he's currently in a grandly appointed music room, radiating high culture and well-being. It shouldn't be radiating anything. In a fit of pique, he sweeps an innocent clock off its mantel with a satisfying crash. 1/1000 clocks broken.