See? This is already much better. Robin leans in a little like he did before, propping himself up on his arms as a sly little smile returns to his face. Much of his sharpness is gone, though. His excitement is boiling somewhere in his chest, not crawling manically out of his skin.

"Phalanx," he copies the sounds exactly, in the way he often does--and lets out a breathy laugh when he realizes how close that is to this thing's own habit of repeating things back at him. "Are there more than one of you?"

Copies, or maybe a split soul? Finch was like that, sort of, and Robin hasn't forgotten the mention of "twins" from earlier...