Enjolras was practical. It was the only thing keeping him from freaking out. That and...well, after all. He had been about to die. He wasn't stupid, he knew his fate. Even if he had lived through that moment, what guarantee did he have of the next? Or the one after? So many men already lay dead around him, what chance did he have of walking away? They were outnumbered. Their ammunition was low. He was dead, or nearly just.
So this wasn't Heaven and it wasn't Hell and frankly, he could live with that. A chance to live, even if it was in a year he didn't understand with new inventions that he couldn't possibly grasp and events that he'd have to research rather than live. It seemed fair, really. And he would still, apparently, be fighting. A battle of good versus evil, something he was familiar with. Just...not quite to this extreme.
"I'm more than willing to take up the fight," he agreed, looking determined in that way he'd often used with Les Amis. That expression that got even Grantaire stirred. "I look forward to it. Humanity...there is nothing like it and it deserves to live on. For all their faults, humans deserve the chance to make life for themselves."
He took a moment to assess his breathing. Though medicine wasn't his field, he felt considerably better. The shock seemed to have worn off and now that Belle had put his situation in the open, he was becoming more accepting. "I'm fine," he agreed, pulling himself to his feet. "Really. I'd be interested in seeing these accommodations. I hadn't even thought about that to be honest," he admitted. "Where to stay and whatnot. I think I was a bit more concerned with..." He nodded at her amulet. "Possessions."