Eight isn't immune to mirroring, intentional or not. It's a subconscious comfort, however slight. He may be in over his head, but judging by the clipped way she grunts...maybe everyone is.

What was swimming around the back of his mind is pulled to the forefront by her next statement. The metaphysics of a planet splitting into light and dark are well beyond him, but the Metro was in a different dimension as well, if what Marina said in the group chat was true.

His eyes dart as his mind races trying to process what he's learning. He'd press her for details but...what could he even ask that would help here? He very much doubts that she'd be here if she knew the way to leave.

He watches a few cars roll by, headlights illuminating the rain drops pattering on the pavement in quiet thought before he speaks next.

"But...you did restore balance."

It's not a question in the most literal sense. She probably wouldn't be here talking to him if she hadn't. The real question he had, asked and answered in that same question, is simply: is there hope?

He pushes himself off the wall, standing up straight. His refreshed determination likely shows in his own eyes, even if he still doesn't quite know what he has to do.

"If it really is countless...that means there's a lot of work to be done."