As he spots the glow on the corner of his vision, Hickey looks over by instinct. 'The truth will set you free.' As far as he's concerned, he's said the truth all along. It's the truth filtered through all of Hickey's everything, but it's still the truth to him. And Fitzjames...Fitzjames said that they had made plans to speak to that girl and, to be fair, the cavern isn't reacting. But there's a big difference between plans on doing something and actually doing something. Crozier had a plan to walk out and look where that got him: nowhere.

And, just as important, they're still stuck here.

There's a part of Hickey who wants to keep going, wants to see just how long it would take before Fitzjames caves. But the practical part of his brain runs out: Fitzjames isn't going to do anything. Why would he? Men like that, they don't do things. Things happen to them, things happen for them. So Hickey frowns, looks at the glow on the wall, takes it all in, before deciding on a truth to tell.

Hell. Billy knows this already. Crozier does as well. Give it a month and Fitzjames might as well. Best to get ahead of the curve.

"I'm not Irish," Hickey says, almost out of nowhere. His gaze is still focused on the writing on the wall, as if he expects it to glow green or give him a prize or do something once the truth is revealed. "Everything about me—name, rank, ethnicity, it's a fraud. I'm a fake who joined up solely to get out of England."

The words on the wall aren't doing anything. But Hickey can feel a shift in the air. Nothing big enough, and he doesn't know where it's coming from. But that did something.

That also means that Fitzjames is going to have ten billion questions but again, fuck it, it's either get through this or die in a cave.