"That is the way that war works." It's nothing new, but he says it in a dejected sort of way. He knows how it goes and he loathes it, prefers his shadows and alleyways far over the percussive chaos of armor and arms.

"You're right, I don't know a Shez... and you said 'our'? Did you mean us?"

He watches Dimitri from his perch, ankles crossed over carefully now as he fixes his hair with his hands now. "There's a version of me there, right?"