Being back outside doesn't seem to help Mithrun much, with the thought of some ancient thing burrowed into his soul still burning away at him. But it's something. Mithrun's grip on Angeal's hand has loosened minutely - just enough that he wouldn't probably be causing bruising on a regular human.

He listens in silence to the further explanation, flat gaze set on Emet-Selch. When the Ancient turns to him, Mithrun answers with a shrug. "That will be all, I think."