[ It's probably for the best that that doppelganger takes its leave after saying its part, because -- how could he have responded to that blind optimism? Especially when he knows that it doesn't pay off? He's not stupid enough to think that Eustace's family might have miraculously survived whatever had happened, not when Eustace had described his own hometown in such bleak terms, and ... he's not sure he's a good enough liar that he could have kept that bleak knowledge out of his voice.

His expression is pained enough as he watches that smaller version of Eustace crumble into so much foliage, and traces of it still linger in the furrow of his brow and the thin press of his lips when he glances over his shoulder back towards Eustace. ]

Eustace -- ...

[ His voice trails off, because -- even now, what is he supposed to say? Expressing sympathy doesn't come easy to him in the first place, and he's not sure if Eustace even wants it, from him, and under these circumstances.

At least the sounds of the streets coming back to life gives him an excuse to avoid Eustace's gaze for a moment as he looks around, taking in the civilians walking by once more. It seems like whatever was keeping them trapped there has relinquished its hold on them, and Gen briefly considers simply leaving to avoid an awkward conversation.

But he doesn't, in the end. Eustace deserves more than that. He only wishes that someone else were here to give it to Eustace, instead of him. So after another moment of clearly-uneasy deliberating, he speaks awkwardly -- almost announcing, rather than speaking to Eustace: ]

I'll pretend I didn't see anything, if you want. Or ... if you wanna say anything, I'll listen. S'up to you.