Lorenzo was over a year ago, from my perspective. You must be ... stuck there. At that time. [ Where you died. That's why I'm imagining you with no more memories. Murmuring, ] And of course you'd be part of Caleb's dreams.

[ He looks down at the device strapped to his bracer, pulling a face at it as he unstraps it for a closer inspection. He pokes it hesitantly, the glow of it underlighting his beard and the attentive flicker of his eyes ... the darkening of his cheeks as he reads down the grid. Gods.

His voice is a little strangled when he speaks. ]

These are ... fucked up. Little offensive too, to be honest.