[ something they want, or something they want to destroy, hm.

Abel mulls those words over with a little more weightiness than the rest, the barest hint of sobriety crossing blue eyes -- but the moment passes, and it's gone and tucked back away into the veil if amicability and comfortable conversation. another potential motivation of their captors to be filed away with the ever-growing list of options... none of which will help him sleep tonight, unfortunately!! thanks Makoto, ]

You know, I was trying to prompt you to say something heartening, just then? [ bro? why would you continue down Macabre Lane, bro.... ] I get the distinct impression you're sharp enough to have caught that, too-- so I'm very mildly upset you chose not to tell me a placating lie, sir. Are you simply so honest a soul you couldn't bear the thought of fabricating a tale about... oh, I don't know-- how this is one of those, um. What do they call them? --Escape rooms! But instead of an escape room, it's like... [ he gestures, broadly, with his hands in a completely ineffectual manner. it conveys nothing except, perhaps, idiocy, ] ...it's like-- ah. An escape... experience!! And when we reach the end, they'll lead us to a fake volcano and pretend to throw us in, but someone's waiting for us at the bottom to take our picture as we fall, screaming, violently cursing our inevitable ends only to find ourselves saved? Oh-- and that person is sure to make some highly embarrassing commentary about the expression on our faces, so on and so forth--?

[ a flawless deduction, certainly.

this conversation sure is going places. ]