Still in the habit of being fashionably late, I see.

[ there's a pause for breath before he answers. ]

That's the thing. I wasn't told anything. I was— We had—

We were... [ there's static in his mind. he can remember the exact moment it felt like he'd just shut his eyes, just for a moment, but everything surrounding it feels like noise. ] ...in Taravast, I was— [ trying, failing, to hold everything, everyone together. ]

I opened my eyes again here. Pocket watch, new— [ he gives his username a glance finally, then his lip curls in distaste. is that a joke? he's never shaken the notion that they are all simply being toyed with, not since leaving sa-hareth. ] —network name, barely recognizing anyone. My things— They're reset.

[ he's probably not making a lot of sense, but he feels like he's actively going out of his mind so that's probably to be expected. ]

What did it look like on your end? Where— [ his voice is tight. he's asking because he needs the information, needs the context it provides. he does not want to hear about fox or lee chang, does not even want to imagine. not yet. he'll unpick that later, unspool it in private next to his sanity, measure and wind them, package them in a way that allows him to keep going. ]

Where have all the others gone?