[Initially, he finds himself worried that she's about to ask him for a promise he cannot give. There are many things uncertain right now. He can't promise he'll survive, he can't promise that he won't do what it takes to have this rescue succeed. Yet, what she ends up asking for is sweet in its simplicity.

He knows the other Pleroma have been concerned that he'll lose himself somehow, and he can't say he won't. He does know that he still has hope that the Innocence will join him however, to undo the fate it unjustly thrust upon his comrades. If it were to come upon him again, he is not sure he would refuse.

But to speak of his feelings? To let the other Pleroma know if and when there is a shift? That he will happily do. He has no desire to cause them any more pain than necessary.]

...You have my word.

[His voice is softer now, contemplating the ramifications of that promise. Again, he finds himself wanting to touch her shoulder or her back, but he can't feel right about doing so. Mistakenly, he worries she would find only discomfort in it.]

If I become aware of its movements... and retain the will to speak... I will let my comrades know. If its power comes to me again... this time I would strive to be its master.