There's no response to her offered condolences except a small grateful smile. She had stepped a bit in front of Sombra out of habit to always be moving, pausing only when she hears the door crack open behind her. Lena turns on her heels to go back, following as instructed into the black. Automatically, she thinks this is a bad route -- a "shortcut" that part of her feels like the other woman just made up.

But as long as she can see, trying to argue won't help anything. The awful fleshy sound of breathing walls makes her spine crawl. Without a doubt, she would rather be out there fighting omnics than in here listening to it.

She doesn't voice her displeasure, but every now and then, she'll swallow down some discomfort. "How far we goin'?"