He takes in the information being fed to him, then grabs an ankle of each guard to begin dragging them towards the wall. The guards are dropped unceremoniously into a pile, arms and legs jumbled together as he examines the ventilation duct. It looks large enough (he'll make it work somehow), and the cover looks snug and in-tact. Fortunately, not rusted over or damaged. He jams his claws along the edge where it should open, and although it would take a normal person quite some time (and some tools to help) to pry it open, Reaper makes quick work of it.

"Works in my favor...for once."

Still, seven minutes is long enough. He crams the guards in there with little care for their well-being, but quietly enough that their gear and boots don't send a cacophony of clanging and banging down the chutes. Then shuts the lid over it just as gently.

"Proceeding to group-up with Azúcar and the rest," he says, easily omitting Jack from that short list. "Is the path clear?" Even though he asks, he's starting to double back while in half-misted form.