As soon as he learned Signless was stuck back with the Capitol, that the Psiioniic hadn't been able to save him, Karkat wanted to change it. It wasn't anger that he felt, not really. Psii didn't deserve it when he'd surely done all he could, and Karkat knew at least that Signless wouldn't want them divided over it. And though he would have picked his safety if given a choice in it, this helped in giving him another reason to fight.

Still, he didn't expect to see him like this. His ancestor's blade is freshly bloodied, and it's only by luck of his unmistakable face that he doesn't flash back to how he found Sheen. He has a sickle in his own hand, plain of form this time, and he holds it down and away even as he drops into a defensive stance.

He doesn't want to fight. He's been evacuating the citizens, pointedly avoiding combat as much as he can, even against those whose faces he doesn't recognize.

He swallows thickly. "Signless, what are you doing?"