Dark eyes seek lighter ones in the strange glow of the magma pools. Without any real idea what to look for, Iris searches for what he thinks he might have found were he to look into his own eyes, moments ago: fear, hurt, exhaustion. He sees none of that when he looks at Wilhelm now, save for the faint lines of strain that pull taut on the boy's brows, and while that alone should have been reassuring — it only makes his confusion grow.

There should have been pain there, just like there should have been pain in him, too. He had heard it, just a few seconds ago. And now... nothing. Nothing in him, either.

"I was sad too." Obviously. The tracks of tears down his cheeks are still fresh, though growing steadily drier by the second. "And then I wasn't." More than just a plain statement of fact and confirmation, he puts voice to his own hypothesis, though he hadn't nearly any other substance to it other than a single, unwavering certainty: "You did that?"