[ Leaving behind. Rhys raises his eyebrows and immediately shakes his head, the thought of removing his arm unbearable. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt, sure as hell not going on that ride again. ]

Um, that's— not really a viable solution. At all. [ His swift refusal definitely has parts to it that are purely emotional, but even if he thinks about it rationally, it wouldn't work, logistically. Bleeding out on the floor of the labyrinth next to a dead minotaur doesn't sound good to him, logically or emotionally. ]

It's not meant to be removed. That's like if I told you to rip off your own arm. Kind of impossible. [ Well, not impossible, but neither is Keith ripping off his own arm, to be fair. It would just be horrible. ] I mean, I've done it before, but it was... look, I'm not doing it again, ever, full stop, case closed.