Bay's resolve is palpable, not just for how she regards Lucifer, but what she thinks about the idea of an inherent mistrust between factions. Wrench finds himself smirking. The small bit of air may not be audible, but the corner of his lip curls just slightly and he can't set his facial expression back to neutral quickly enough to hide that amusement.

He's been a pawn for the better part of his whole life. And yet somehow despite being the most disposable thing in someone else's game, he's managed to outlive every single other person. Can a pawn win a game of Chess? That's what it feels like to Wrench most days. He still isn't sure that being the sole survivor is the gift that it's supposed to be, though.

Best thing to do is keep your head low and go along with it. What do they... Yes, to Wrench the rest of the room is still a 'they,' not an 'us'... want to do? Find the door back home?