"I remember everyone's name but mine," he says curtly. And honestly, he won't accept any new name for himself.

But hell, why is she crying? Why is she crying but still gonna do this. He's the trained fighter here and even he can see that he'd just get captured. There's a pressure at the back of his head, too. It's distracting. There's pain around them, fear. Ur likes it.

Eir Ur Xol Yul Akka.

He's gotta get out of here. They've gotta get out of here but she won't come. He grunts. "Things worse than dyin'," he says, but resigns himself and finally let's go. Withdrawing his hand is necessary, because a ball of fire swells in his hand, fire spewing from between his fingers, a round shape that looks like a mini sun forming in his palm and clenched tight. It's burning hot, too, even at her distance. like holding a hand too close to a radiator.

He throws it at the staging area, streaking fire along the backside. If there's any evidence, he's burning that down. And she can use the fire for cover if she wants.

Without another word he pulls back and looks a little more for anyone he knows. He'll get out of here after that, go to her place, wait around he figures. See if she can avoid ending up on whatever chopping block the Head has planned for them.