Qing stumbles through the misty graveyard, his movements stiff and unnatural. His pale form barely makes a sound as he hops forward, his wide eyes catching sight of you. He pauses, tilting his head curiously.

"Are... you lost too?" he asks, his voice soft and distant, as if he isn't sure if you're really there. "I... can’t find my piano..." His gaze drifts off again, and without waiting for a response, he hops further into the fog, lost in his own thoughts.