He stares at it a moment, grateful she can't see the expression on his face. The way it twists seeing that weapon, the physicality of Felix right there in front of them. He's back. He's alive, he...

Locus might throw up. But he reins it in, quietly taking the knife from her and carefully stowing it on his own armor. A splash of orange against the steel gray and sage green.

"No. You won't."

A beat, and then.

"...you did well."