[Amber eyes return to Dante, this time with actual focus on the clock's face. His brow twitches into a frown at the mention of the dead returning to some form of life, whatever existing here might be described as... and it's almost as upsetting as it is reassuring. He feels a throb of something in his chest and forcefully sets the thought aside, only to be met with hopeful nonsense that feels almost desperate. Meant to reassure him, of course. He doesn't find the disdain for it he might normally have.

The space of a breath passes, and another, before he replies at a typical volume.]

I'll endeavor to reach the confidence you seem to have in that. [Souls. Can this person detect such things? He pauses a moment, but something harder comes to his demeanor—pushing away whatever momentary despair he might have displayed before.] In the meantime there's nothing to be done but work towards that possibility, regardless.

[He's certainly not planning to stay here, whatever the result of that may be.]