Dammit, Kratos, never answering his questions, but the question he asked in turn wiped away any protests Lloyd might have formed. He swallowed, abruptly looking away, blaming the light. After so long in the dark, even that small beam of light seemed bright and glaring, almost as harsh as the light had been that had hung over his head in that room. Something tensed inside him at even the memory and his shoulders stiffened. It took an effort even to think about the question.

"They..." His voice choked off. He didn't want to talk about it. Unconsciously, he clutched at his injured hand, palm covering the Exsphere and Crest. He swallowed and tried again. "He... Kratos, they have my dad." Okay, he was copping out, but that was just as important! And while he was talking about it, he could look Kratos in the eye again. He could hold himself up and pretend he was all right, at least enough to keep going. "Not Dirk, I mean. My father! They have my father here!"