He's gotten used to that tugging sensation in a surprisingly brief amount of time, recognizing the signs of Sorey desiring his attention. The instructions in his head still tell him he ought to be only summoned by name, ordered out whenever it's time for battle, and that this is wrong, but as usual Sorey goes against all of his expectations. These new rules take some getting used to, but this, at least, is easy to remember.

He orbs out of Sorey's body and stands before him, waiting expectantly. Is Sorey just... going to keep calling him out like this? For conversation? He doesn't understand it at all. He knows now that he has to be prepared to destroy his malak, as any exorcist must. Why would he waste time on a disposable weapon? Even if he's somewhat valuable... even if he's not as easy to replace... he's still ultimately nothing.

It's cemented in place in his mind, carved into his thoughts like text upon a stone (how does he know that?): the life of an exorcist far exceeds that of a malak.

We're nothing. I'm nothing. It's what the voice tells him, even as he waits, confused and unsure, for Sorey to speak.