[ Hearing this, Link goes quiet. His azure eyes move downward to focus on the dirt beneath him as he considers. The masked man's detached perspective on what is happening to them strikes Link as strange, obviously, as it would for most people — the sounds of intermittent fighting, of screaming and arguing, have been echoing down the dark passageways for some time now. It's not exactly the kind of thing that most would be treating with the sterile neutrality of a research project. ]

You must have been a Zenite before.

[ Link murmurs this gently, matter-of-factly, his own detached observation. It's his best guess at explaining this guy, and one he is content with accepting, assuming it is true. Without waiting for a response, he continues. ]

I have to get back to my world because people there are relying on me. Or... were relying on me, I suppose I should say.

[ Pressing his lips into a line, he rests each hand on his knees, fingers curled slightly. He is not very good at talking about any of this, t expressing his deepest thoughts and feelings, but he's trying. If only for the sake of claiming the Oracle. ]

My world fell to ruin once before because I wasn't good enough. I can't allow that to happen again.