[ In however small a way, her answer is a relief. It shows him that she humanizes those people in the Lostbelts... they're not a sea of faceless victims. Each and every one was a person with a life that, if they were brought back, would have deserved to live out to its fullest. his hand drops, and he keeps his gaze pinned at the shoddy Olive Garden carpet, expression hard to read. ]

It's fine. [ He says, not really sounding fine, but at least seeming to accept her answer. Bluntly: ] Just didn't want you to say "I'd get rid of the last one with it."

[ The last Lostbelt standing in her way. If the only thing on her mind regarding getting the wish was completing her mission, killing billions more in the process, he thinks he wouldn't have any other choice but to stop her. And he really didn't want that, even if he would follow through, would've put her in the ground if he had to. His question had been an ultimatum, though Ritsuka herself hadn't known it. If he heard an answer he didn't like to that question, there would be no going back with him. All things considered, it's the most merciful answer she could have offered.

It's not that comforting, but at least now he knows she's still trying to find a way out from underneath this weight. There's still hope, maybe... for some of the people in the last one. However: ]

But I don't think there's any way to bring people back, wish or Grail or second chance whatever the hell else. There's no power strong enough to restore someone's life after it's lost... not even mine.

[ He's brought people back from the brink of death countless times. It's why he knows, perhaps more than anyone, that once a soul is gone, it's gone forever. He shakes his head, mournful. ]

You're better off trying to save the ones are left — and swearing to me you're gonna do it.