Carver draws back just enough to meet Pope's eyes, and nod. Solemn and sober. The commander never lies, never bullshits, so this is just the way the world is now. There was a test, but he passed. Fuck the enemy.

He pulls out, shifting to protect Pope if needed. Wary of the enemy.

The leader hums. Head tilting one way, then the other. "Well. Was that fun?"