Eleven nods, hoping that's true- or at least, now that their leader is defeated, that what remains of his army will crumble.

"Rest," he advises with all the insistence of a medic that's repeated that same phrase dozens of times over. "The wristorative will help over time."

He laughs to himself, then offers Archeval a tired grin. "And now I think we can both agree I make the better nursemaid."