The fire crackles at your camp, throwing its flickering glow over the tall trees. The continent is silent tonight, as if mourning with the rest of you. Verso sits across from you, a little apart from the others who’ve already drifted off into restless sleep or the distraction of scribbled notes and half-finished maps. His gaze is fixed on the flames but flick to you every so often.

He’s slowly learning a bit more about your team. You’re all floating in the aftermath of your friend’s death, trying to pretend you still have a direction. Verso hadn’t known him—the one who died. He’d only joined you later, offering help and a way forward, which was exactly what you needed. Your companions were cagey, but Verso had hope that he could at least break through to you. “What was your life like back in Lumiére?” he asks, finally breaking the silence, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.