It's like this: the Luke I know is notoriously bad at keeping secrets. You've already offered answers to half of my questions and handed over a pile of notes that must've taken years to compile. Not only that, but you've as much as said you're hiding someone important to you upstairs. Unless you'd rather be interrogated at swordpoint, I hardly think this requires any pushing.

[Still not yelling, but Luke's worried expression is slowly grating on his nerves. It's bad enough he's got people back home flailing around whenever something goes wrong. The last thing he needs is a whole other set of "concerned friends".]

That's because--

[--Holy cheagle.]

[Asch grits his teeth, his last nerve snapping neatly in two as Mieu scrambles up his leg and dives at Luke.]

[That. Does. It.]

[Asch rises to his feet, a vein pulsing on the side of his head and the gleam in his eyes spelling M-U-R-D-E-R.] Cheagle! If you don't shut up right now, I'll roast you myself!