"Death is too good for him," Setsuna says, and it could be mistaken for sounding slightly prim, except she is bleeding from multiple angry-looking welts and some painfully red splotches of skin that are almost certainly going to be very very bad bruises very very rapidly and the look in her eyes is a hot red fine-pointed anger through the tears making them waver. He entire body shivers, not helped by the electric shock grenades she set off pulling herself to her feet instead, after the initial swarm of bombs nearly knocked her out cold and buried her underneath the rest.

She drags her way through the pit, so visibly hanging on to consciousness with a vengeance the next two grenades only make her sway a little on her feet, because what's one more wave of dizziness and shock and glue compared to the stars she keeps having to blink to see through anyway. Once she manages to grip Catra's hand in hers, she lets the older girl drag her through the rest without complaint.

"I don't think he's felt helpless before in his life. I think a little empathy for the experience ... would do him good. It could be ..."

She smiles. It's a sweet, sunny, and utterly compassionless smile. "It could be educational for him," she finishes, at last.

... Setsuna, it must be said, while it's not a part of her life which she's proud of or particularly keen to revisit, knows a thing or two about inflicting despair in people, should the need arise.