Sam frowns. It's not quite an outright scowl, but it's not exactly friendly, either. More annoyed than anything, really.

Still, Crimson's admitted that she had rescued them. And, well. She sure as hell didn't need to do that. At least one less thorn in her proverbial side, if Crimson hadn't, really.

"Thanks. No, I mean it." Expression aside. She's not usually given to long and flowery speeches, and it'd be suspect if she suddenly belted one out here. The short thanks she does give, then, is honest.

There's a part of Sam that can empathize with the allure of staying in the Dream Sphere for good. When she first became a Dreamer--if she hadn't been offered a chance to come to Yumemigaoka, if she hadn't come to Japan, well. There but for the grace goes she.

"So are you the devil offering it to gullible Dreamers to sell their souls, or did someone put you up to this?" Since Crimson has all but admitted she's at least behind some of the Disturbances--in part.

It's Sam's turn to not expect an answer, but there's no malice in her expression or her tone, now. She can't bring herself to it.