Sigma smiles wryly. Would it be an admission of weakness if he told her that that was what he'd hoped for, in some way? He grew tired. "What a relief," he answers dryly, beginning to grow comfortable with her company. As an afterthought, he adds: "...Your injury is unfortunate." He can't say he's sorry to see her in such a state, or that he didn't approve of the Capitol's idea of punishment. He hopes she would understand.

He displays his own ruined arms, one a metal stub of bone and the other black with burned fake flesh, no more than a titanium skeleton, and shrugs. "I empathize, truly." While Shepard had been injured by the Capitol for her association with Rebel Tributes, Sigma had faced the exact opposite scenario.