Ren scrambles up and away the moment Crow lets him, perhaps not without a spiteful attempt at a kick to the ribs. But his mind is clear now—he thinks? He's pretty sure? He's still vibrating out of his skin with tension, though, and when he tries to think about what just happened, everything he said—

No. He stalks over to Futaba instead and looms behind her, shoving his mask up onto his head beneath his hood so everyone can see the fierce warning glare he sweeps across the gathering. You'll stay the fuck away from her if you know what's good for you, says the expression, but he's not trying to attack Phoenix anymore or screaming his lungs out, so that's... something, anyway.

Then he turns his gaze on Falcon, if, indeed, it is Falcon in front of them again and not a mindless death robot. He'll believe Falcon is himself when he sees some proof. And although he believes in Futaba's code, all kinds of things could have gone wrong with implementing it. Or maybe Falcon's uninhibited self is also hostile. In short, they don't know if Falcon himself is safe. His hand rests on his gun.