[ What a typical way for Eustace to respond, and Dokja would almost laugh if his heart didn't feel so heavy, if his head wasn't aching just so. The air feels too somber, clogging up all his other senses as he chooses to turn his face toward the red sky. Not a single star in sight above, as if they'd been wiped clean, or perhaps hidden behind the fog of whatever this particular apocalypse has kicked up.

It's a better view than a dead Yoo Joonghyuk, and a better way to hide the way his eyes grow glassy and red-rimmed from Eustace. ]

I don't know...

[ His voice comes out quietly, small and uncertain. ]

I thought it was a memory, but it's different. Or maybe I'm missing the pieces for this one, [ he can't seem to stop once he starts, anxiety making his words come out faster and faster. ] I can't remember things. One moment I'm in one place, and then next, I'm somewhere else without knowing how I got there. Is that what this is?

[ With a trembling inhale, he squeezes his eyes shut, then wipes at them with his free hand. ]

You say it isn't real, but Yoo Joonghyuk... [ His voice cracks and his hold on that limp hand tightens. ] He hasn't been home in a while.