His measured beat did little for the atmosphere, only adding a strain between two bodies. Obvious tension, blatant hesitation. A formula hinting at distrust.

"They told me you were dead. They said terrible things, they told me everyone was dead. My family," he began. "After the interrogations, after the water." He didn't attempt to hold onto anything, not a wall or a door, when speaking of this. The fought the impulse that his torturers trained in him, that weakness after confession.

"They really didn't like me, Eridan."