Isaac heard it. He wasn't lucky enough to not have heard it.

This isn't the Ishimura, is it...

His head hurt. His chest hurt, his stomach hurt. This was- something. A trap, or a bad joke, or a dream? Isaac didn't know. What he knew was that he felt sick, worried, and livid all at once; his brain and body couldn't settle on a state of being, so he did the only thing he could do. He shut down.

Face and voice equally blank, he answered, "No, it's not."

He stared for a moment longer, branding the stranger's sickly looking face in to his memory for future reference (avoid, avoid, avoid) before speaking again. "I have to go." That said, he turned, and began to walk.

He'd point a doctor his way or something.