Hibiki had remarked on Akito's eyes; a distant, dully amused part of Akito wondered what Hibiki would've had to say about this man's. Probably similar to what Akito was thinking now: very sharp, very dangerous, and if he had to pin a metaphor, he'd think of this man's more like a dragon's. A old, tired but safely assured in its power dragon.

That was the image that came to mind when that tremor of reverse-vertigo hit Akito.

It was taking a lot of fighting natural instincts to keep holding onto his mask and not look as nervous and suddenly very, very worried he now was. And there was one thought: the dragon hadn't decided to lazily swat them down just yet, which was either a hope spot or more reason to worry.

"Well," Akito paused long enough to make sure that what words left his mouth were even enough, "what would it take for us then for us to be allowed to leave?