[The sound that emerges from his throat is more animal than human as his lips peel back from his teeth. The metal caging his fingers creaks warningly as his hands tense further, and he entertains the thought of just raking his hand across Ren's face. What kind of expression would he give him? Hurt? Shock? Anger?

Instead he clenches his fists until the points of his claws dig into his own palms. He wants to believe Ren so badly -- Ren speaks with such conviction that he almost can. But nothing works out that easily. It never has.]

You're dead, [he snarls, anger giving way to bitterness.] You're dead, you failed, and your fucking troupe of idiots are going to join us here sooner than you'd think.

[The anger ebbs away, leaving in its wake the same exhaustion and hopelessness he's felt since the end of their fight in the engine room of that damned Palace.]