There it is, a complexity of emotion washing over him when it comes to his brother. While his face keeps the all familiar scowl, he is internally conflicted.

Relieved, he knows that Genji is in one piece. (More or less, because anything missing is his fault anyway.) Angry, because he shouldn't be here, Genji should be far, far away from this and this isn't right. (It isn't right that Genji should be trapped here with him. Or is he angry because they both have no where to run now, forced to face each other? His greatest mistake?)

And the fury of knowing too cruelly of how much different he is.

This is a different man than the Genji he thought he'd slain all those years ago. He hates it.

"I think you are still a fool," Hanzo says coldly.