He is absolutely worth something that petty. You haven't met him. If you have something you could use and you are holding out on me, I won't forgive you.

[Ok, maybe they need to find a new air pocket, because Hector is maybe a little light-headed and getting loopy imagining Isaac cursed with scurvy or perpetually soggy boots or something.

He untangles his arm from the rope that has been keeping him steady and catches Alucard's coat in his fist. Cesar stirs in his arm and wags his little curl of a tail.]

Get us to the aft bulkhead. We should have more air there.