He had a feeling Archeval knew or suspected something, yet equally certain he wouldn't hear of it even if he asked.

Eleven hummed and gave a noncommittal shrug. It was tempting, now that he'd admitted to failure, to list all the ways in which it was irreversible, but felt less steady just thinking about them. Instead, he took in a fortifying breath. He had to focus on what he could still do.

"Sometimes, not even then," he repeated with a nod. "I'm only alive through the efforts of others- including yours, now- so I can't waste it."