"I believe you, I believe you," Phalanx mutters as they sit back again and bring their knees up with them. Curling up like a pile of laundry left on the corner of the couch, the souls murmur to themselves--still sounding that vague sort of upset that they've had going for the past few hours, but also like they're now trying to soothe themselves a little bit, at least.

It's nice, being believed. And maybe repeating it, running it a few more times until everyone in there can hear it, will help the feeling stick around.