[ It's rather easy to pinpoint, but in the corner between idling doctors and other scientists, there's an empty spot. Moira makes her bets on there, and deadpan stares. ]

Fun is not the word I would choose.

[ Another asked question and a furious swat at someone else's hand. Moira demands another moment to herself, and most of the poking and prodding crowd disperses, mentioning they'll be back in a scant moment. ]

You're rather plucky considering the stakes here. I'm amazed they haven't dissected you alive yet.

[ No, really. While Moira's history of experimentation on herself was intriguing, she's imagining the scientists would've gone apeshit over Sombra's augumentation. And her about her dirty laundry being aired out, respectively. ]