Shinsuke is sore. He's not sure how long he's been sitting here, exactly, slumped up against the wall, trying to breathe normally. However long it's been, he knows it's not good- especially with how blurry his vision is, how rough each inhale feels. Ribs, perhaps, he thinks. Or perhaps a broken nose? My luck, both.

He leans his head back, trying to reorient himself, when he feels something rough impact with his boots and he looks up to find Xavier staring at him. "Hey, are you ok?"

He wants to shake his head, snap back that of course he isn't ok, but he stays his hand, struggles for a breath again. "I've been better," he says slowly, and Xavier huffs out a mournful laugh.

"Yeah, same here, Shin." He sighs and groans. "God, this sucks. Sucks so bad. There has to be something we can do to get out of here, or... or something. There's so many of us."

Shinsuke looks around and sees what he means. All in all, there are twenty of them, with their twenty partners, and... Yes, you'd think we could do something. Even with the more inexperienced AEW and TNA group, they vastly outnumber Ancient Wisemon. It's a struggle to look around considering how weak he feels, and how painful his neck feels just moving a little, but he manages- catches Ciampa's eye first, then Rollins'. Punk is the hardest to get from this angle, but he finally twists just enough to do so, and the four of them have some silent communication with their eyes. "Possible?" Shinsuke finally calls out, and there's a lengthy, quiet pause before three responses echo back at him.

"Yeah."

Now that they're in agreement, they just need to figure out how and when.