Ever since he'd heard the familiar sounds of omnics rushing in droves, he can't help but hear only that. Everything else either sounds muted or is filtered out, as if his brain is trying to focus only on the most dire threat at hand.

He curls a claw around the trigger of his shotgun, before forcing himself to lay the finger flat against the side of it instead.

"No," he answers truthfully. As much as he can hear them, perhaps he hears too much. They sound like they're coming from all over the place, which he wouldn't be surprised if they were. "But they're coming in fast. Keep working, I'll cover you."

This way, he'll cover all his bases. She can continue finding more information, while he thins out the herd at a safe enough distance so that when he has to leave her, he can do it while knowing she won't be in too deep of shit. This should be fine, he thinks. It's not very convincing, even to himself, but it's starting to look like the only viable option.