If the desperate rumbling of convulsing pathways is indicative of anything, it's that leaving him here means he'll stay here.

So where his tangled memories and guilt leave off, Sombra steps in. There isn't time to waste on talking— and at the moment, she doesn't have the energy or desire to. Like old shadows had tried to drag him to the ground, her fingers close tight around the collar of his armor where flesh sloughs away, unwilling to let him have whatever grim satisfaction he craves. Pulls with every ounce of strength she has, arms burning—

—and it isn't enough.

'You don't get to go all soft on me now...'

Her grip flexes, she snakes her arm around his listless own as her free hand moves to grasp the translocator at her side. "Levántate, Soldado. We're leaving."