Sigma does not recognize the voice that comes from behind the helmet, but he is not daunted. The old man casually sets his helmet under the crook of his arm and puts his hands on his hips.

"You're new, aren't you? Surviving the Arena is no easy task for one person on their own. After all, there are Xenomorphs around here," he pronounces the name carefully, making it perfectly clear he knows what he is talking about. Sigma had seen the eggs and knew it was only a matter of time before the Capitol got their bloodbath. There was, of course, a chance that this man came from a world where such creatures were the works of fiction (rendering his information useless), but Sigma could not be certain. "Do you truly believe you would last long, one on one?"

He will know the other's decision soon enough. Sigma stands his ground and waits for a vision that might tell him one of the possible outcomes of his gamble.