His younger self's assertion that he won't make Miles' mistakes is strangely freeing. He's salvaged something at least, even if it's just an alternate timeline that he'll never actually see the results of. Which leaves him to refocus on what he can do for himself. Even here, in the middle of all his madness...

God. That light in his other self's eyes is terrifying. Does he always look like he's about to jump off a cliff and learn to fly on the way down?

"You have to admit that it's a hell of a challenge," he says, but his tone isn't quite so defeatist any more. A flicker of rising to the challenge himself. "It's going to get insane before I make anything resembling progress."

Progress being identity. Progress being ... usefulness? But really, he wants progress to mean going home someday. Is that even possible? Miles' comment about the Ingress digs at him, making him chew at his lip thoughtfully.