The Womb. Vander's ears flicked as he settled into place behind Vargas, going down the tunnel and keeping up with the Leviathan's pace. "I'll get used to it, then." The Black Spire was the major danger, but Draco itself may be more strange in the uncomfortable sense. He'll see when they got there, then- and it wouldn't be long, now.

His scales stiffened at the words traitor Master. Jupiter, a traitor? Vander's expression darkened for a moment, settling this sharp stone deep in his gut. If a Master had rebelled, then what had become of them? He'd have to think on that later, as the conversation churned on, and he made the more important mental note to leave the remains alone. There was no need to promise that he wouldn't touch them- that would be a given. Instead, he remained quiet as he eyed the Aperture over Vargas's shoulders, his skin crawling with- well, he'd call it excitement, but in truth it was something more. Anxiety? Awe? He didn't know.

But, he did know one thing: it was time to start getting back to work.

He followed Vargas closely, entering (or, re-entering) his old life, ready to begin once more. He would not run away this time- he would do what he was meant to do. And, right now, he decided he was meant to do this, among the myriad of other purposes he'd found in life.

This one was the most important.