There's a bit of cold guilt sliding down Zelos' throat when Malos and Sheena finally leave him alone, combined with some anxious feeling at the prospect of being left behind, but he swallows it down and keeps his eyes on the red blade instead. Because nobody here seems to think that watching this stranger as he sticks around their numbers is important, which is fucking bizarre, but he's still kind of making Zelos a little nervous, so.

Silently, through the fog in his mind, Zelos carefully observes what he's doing: collecting the intact and sleeping core crystals from Dickson's blades in his arms, slowly, one by one, as gently as if he were picking something precious like flowers in a field. The sight pops a bubble of curiosity in Zelos' chest, something that curls his lips into a disarming smile that he accompanies with a hum loud enough for the blade to hear. "Plannin' on returning them to the humans?" he asks softly, stepping forward. Then frowns. "Or do you... have..."

And that's as far as Zelos gets, because as his speech slows and slurs, his mind and body finally give out on him, conscious fading to black as he stumbles forward in free-fall.