Am I prepared? [He echoes the question, and it trails off like a weak thing, because he already knows the answer.]

I won't be prepared to say goodbye. To leave all my friends behind, unable to see anyone ever again. But I don't have a choice; I have to, there's too many people relying on me back home.

[But the choice being made for him doesn't make it any easier. Just the thought alone saddens him, makes him wonder how deeply affected he's been by the people here, and how he can ever detach himself from it.

Idly, while these thoughts churn in his head, Markus makes a wine selection. A Sauvignon Blanc.]

You could come with me, you know. If your world has nothing for you, what does this one have once everyone is gone?

[Maybe it's a fool's errand, a long shot, just wishful thinking. But there's something sincere about that offer, easily spoken.]