That's pointed enough to draw her out of her unfocused reverie: rolling over onto her side, propped up on one arm, stare entirely direct.

"Who was he, Soldado?"

A memory, a ghost, someone he knew— the reason he'd given in to madness? She might have had Locus stilled in the moment if not for that corpse's vice grip on those chains. Sombra's curiosity is a curse she can't escape, a sixth sense, and right now, it's more important than giving Locus the gift of an explanation for her motives.