"I'll be fine," he assured his son, though in truth he wasn't sure if this was the case. It had been a long time since he'd felt his mortality so thoroughly. "Oh, and Pietro-" he called out to halt him once more, "Try to get the humans- the ones who came to help- to a safe place." Allowing them to die was no way to repay their good deed, though he still felt bitter. This whole ordeal only proved his point about humans- no matter how many "good" ones there might be, there were still cretins who would try to slaughter a race of people just because they were different. If it were merely meant to be an attack on the Brotherhood, then they could have found a way to do so. This was just wrong. They were murdering helpless children.