"Is that an actual thing," he says, grumbles, because this is beyond their hands, this is dealing with moving pieces that don't particularly care what the ants beneath their feet are doing, only aware enough that there are ants, going about their lives, "Do people actually play waiting games where you're from."

He doesn't think so, but the sideways look he slants to Tidus invites the joke, knowing it's a frustration across the whole. Waiting without having answers or timeframes or anything workable, relying on patience already frayed for most of them, it feels bad. Feels like something reaching into his stomach and prodding a few tiny holes so he suffers from the slow sepsis that invites, being eaten alive from the inside out, only he knows that's dramatic, that the only thing looking towards killing him is, in fact, on missions so far.

"Might as well tell those guys to tell their future committee about taking action, because all my experience with stuff like this? Is it takes too much time. Happening quick is when something forces a hand. I don't know that we can with the train... and we have even less leverage with the Ministry. I don't know that I can wish for something bad enough to stir things forward fast... not another Chaos situation, or worse."