He wants to keep fighting, he thinks. He has to. What else is he supposed to do? He always has to keep bristling and clawing and baring his teeth. Even as he hears the distant rumble of bricks collapsing, the sound muffled to a dull roar by the blood still trickling from his ears, Gen's first instinct is to look blearily upon the destruction surrounding that glowing entity. His mind whirring, chugging, struggling to think of what else he can do to hurt it. He's supposed to keep fighting, right?

-- then he feels fingers latched around his wrist. Yanking him forth.

Gen almost stumbles that first step. But somehow he manages to stagger forth, finding momentum even on wobbly legs as Eustace pulls him away from that fight. Even if he can't hear whatever it is that Eustace is saying, his words rendered into so much static past the constant buzz of tinnitus, he can tell Eustace is trying to get him away from this chaos and -- ...

maybe that's fine. Maybe that's permissible. Past the heavy curtain of exhaustion starting to shroud his thoughts -- both the Shimmer's effects and the adrenaline rush of combat starting to fade, leaving bloodloss to start weighing heavily down on him -- Gen can't fight the secret, shameful urge to live just a little longer.

Even as that entity's glow grows ever stronger behind him, casting a blinding light across their surroundings, he doesn't look back as he's pulled away from the carnage.