[ He's not sure what sort of response he expected. And he's not sure if what Emet-Selch offers him is what he was looking for. But in a strange way, that plainly given answer -- part understanding, part pragmatic advice -- feels ... right. Gen raises his head only a fraction at the sound of Emet-Selch's low words, peering wearily up past the messy shadow of his hair, then offers another small nod. Just a little bit of the wretched tension drains from the line of his shoulders as he exhales, slow and hoarse. ]

... I'm fine. [ He says it mostly because he doesn't know what else to say. ] I can fight if something happens. I'm just ... I've been tired since we got back.

[ And not just physically. It feels like something's reached into his skull and gouged out a chunk of his mind.

Gen distractedly rubs at his shoulder before giving Emet another glance. ]

And -- isn't stuff going to get serious from here? Even more than before.

[ Is there really any time for him to be resting? ]