Almost inaudible, but only almost, and that's what finally helps him put a finger on what had seemed so subtly unnerving about her manner, all contained stress and unusual willingness to engage. He hadn't realised--but why wouldn't she cloak herself. He hasn't had to account for something like that in too long, this is just another example of what's wrong with a linear, consistent existence, it dulls the senses. It's only the smallest amount of fear he feels--being trapped isn't real, but being changed always is--but it's refreshing nonetheless. His response is joyously, gratefully violent, a punitive gouge of virulence at her senses. He sidesteps the threat of the door, as well as he can without bothering to try and uncloak it, a little regretfully.

"Why would I wait for you to leave, to break this universe?" Stupid ship. "Anything I do will affect you." More than that, it would probably involve her directly. When isn't she destroying universes or being used at crosspurposes to reality to traverse between them? Misuse is the only use she has.