Krok frowns at the ceiling and tries to think. The terms feel familiar; a candle, he thinks. He thinks there was a candle. And vague words on a screen. A frustrating conversation.

"Yes," he answers slowly without looking back to Diarmuid just yet. "Yes, I recall… something. It was very strange." Now he looks down and musters a smirk. "So I didn't dream all that, hm?"