Thankfully, Carlisle feels that pang; he doesn't want to argue, either. It seems so meaningless at this point, as do many things. He knows he must reassure his partner, though -- that kind of regret is crippling in the worst way, poisonous to a person's very spirit.

Everyone disappeared, Glacius. The false gods, the citizens -- everyone, save for a few... and the monsters. We likely would have been separated.