[Guzma knows this place. It's that terrible world where those weirdos live, snuffing out all thought, all emotion, all creativity and words like some sort of psychotic cult. He remembers it all, this doomed world under the water where those who break the rules are doomed to an endless sleep. It's disgusting... So many of them are kids that line the streets, curled up and still as statues. Guzma's stomach lurches forward at the sight of them all, but it's the growing fury flickering brighter and brighter that wards off the worst of the pressing weariness.

He's not going to join them. Not now, not ever, and so he marches onward, rounding a corner in this dilapidated dystopia until he nearly falls over himself catching a hand on the side o a ruined wall when he spots an all too familiar youngster.]

You've gotta be kidding me...! [Hurrying forward to where Gladion rests, GUzma grabs a fistful of his jacket and gives the young man a hearty shake.] Up n' at 'em, brat - I slapped y'all 'round once b'fore, I ain't so nice to stop there. C'mon, get on your feet, I ain't carrying you!

[Only he will, if Gladion doesn't heed his call. Lillie would have Guzma's backside if he left her brother in a place like this.]