It's her claws that she tries to stop herself with, cutting violet lines into the plateau before skidding to a ragged halt. That it takes her a moment— hand clamped down tightly over her side, teeth gritted to ignore that deep-set ache— to clamber upright is thankfully buffered by the corpse's sense of humor as it pats its so-called 'partner'.

There, at least, is a connection she can instantly understand.

"Soldado, escucha me." Flicking back towards her translocator without waiting for Cortana to finish infiltrating Locus' armor might only prolong the encounter: she doesn't have the luxury of undead resilience, fighting a war on both fronts won't get them out of this intact. So instead she opts to try and tip the balance the best way she knows how.

Partner versus partner.

"No tiene que hacer esto." Clipping her SMG to her side, Sombra lifts her hand— open-palmed— towards Locus as though laying down arms in a gunfight. Felix, for all his smugness, is wholly ignored; speaking in spanish gives her an edge against him by default, and with distance now firmly set between them, both he and Locus would need to cover ground before they could set a hand on her. "Soy tu amiga. Soy tu aliada. Puedo ayudarle - esta pesadilla no te pertenece."

After a beat, she adds, tipping her hand over by degrees: "Please."