[The weight really isn't enough to offer him a challenge. He gives V/V a sad sort of smile, still distracted by thoughts of home.

Home. Which, if the letter is true, has been destroyed. He drops the weight – it hits the floor with a very heavy thud – to look at the badly-rumpled piece of paper tucked into his belt.]

Hope? [The word just sort of croaks out. He pivots on his heel and makes a beeline for the stairs.]