Viktor's lips thin and he knows better than to pester with questions about that. "And for all his genius he's using dirty bandages and willpower to handle the lingering effects of the injuries," he sighs, unable to keep his tone from giving away some level of genuine concern along with the vague exasperation. "How like him."

He resists the urge to run a hand over his face, just letting his fingers curl tighter around his cane. Also takes a moment to wonder about Silco's eye, now that he knows it isn't from some other odd world. Mutation, he'd guess. Happens, in the undercity.