"How did you get here?" Heat's question was half growl. He'd woken on that bed, but this man had been outside the room. Even if it hadn't been for long, he knew just that much more than Heat did, and he'd need to spill what else he knew. "What were you doing before they brought you here, who are they, and how do we get out?"

He deserved to know that much, and if his approach was too forceful, then so be it. There were so many other questions he wanted to add on top of the others, but some of them were best saved for a more appropriate audience, if he could find one - such as how he was alive. Heat knew death, and he knew the point beyond, and if he knew nothing else he knew that this body - living, breathing - shouldn't exist. Data in the real world wasn't recycled with the rain, and he wasn't in a program anymore.

Perhaps he could at least answer one question of Beelzemon's. "Name's Heat. I just want to know what's going on."