[He's spent much of his life being hauled toward various forms of destruction, willy-nilly. He hates it...and for a second he's ripped between his anger at Mayfield, his grief and rage at Ilsa's death (Black coal and burning, again!) and his anger that Natalie is tempting him to become Siva, God of Destruction. It takes a moment for him to gain any control at all.]

I. Will. Consider it.

If they do not bring Ilsa back.

[More sriracha and tabasco]

Not before then.

But...

I will remember. And I will call on you.

[He offers her a hand. It is a formal acknowledgement of a deal made, and alliance formed, a treaty accepted.]