The air is heady with the sound of drone wings, and above that, Riccin can hear the heavy stomp of grounded movement. They must be at the next street over, for all that they haven't heard any culling screams. Any minute, they'll be pressing into this street.

That thought stirs them out of their stupor, and to movement.

"This is a fucking awful idea," they snap, stepping forward, directing their words at Pheres. If the kid is feral, then they're going to get culled, but there's no point in him throwing his lot in with them, no matter his stupid delusions about his Messiah damned eyes. "They've got battery sensors - if they catch you trying to bail, they'll gut you like a goddamned fish."