They have to get out of here. That's the thought on repeat in Claude's mind and it only grows in insistence with each repetition. A foreboding looking passageway of some kind seems like it might be their best bet though even with his eternal optimism Claude's feeling pretty grim about heading back through it.

After all, it brought them here. What if it leads somewhere worse now with how this place seems to be one shifting illusion at all times?

But there's nothing else which looks like a way out, and so with a murmured c'mon he wraps a bloodied arm around Wilhelm's shoulders when the teen finds his side. He means to lead them forward but Wilhelm freezes in place if that tension is anything to go by and Claude glances his way. Before he can ask what's wrong - as if there's not several things glaringly wrong about everything since they've arrived - the teen's grip tightens. Maybe he doesn't have to ask after all.

There's no real comfort to be given here in the face of horrors which can't be soothed away, and what he can think of borders on platitudes. Nothing can ever be placed over this to hide it away when they're both wearing the marks of it and standing in the blood of others. Instead Claude tightens his grip around Wilhelm in what little reassurance he can offer, moves his hand to turn the other's head to lean against his shoulder, and starts walking to leave the sight before them behind even if the images of all of it will be etched in their minds for some time to come.