[ Ciri listens, nodding. In truth, it's all broad strokes for her too (thankfully), but certain things stick out. Certain things refuse to fade completely, like the persistent details in a recurring dream.

In a way, it's a relief. They've been tiptoeing around it too long. She wanted to trust him before this; she wanted to share certain things, thinking he might be able to help, but always hesitated in the end. Now, that hard part is over.

Well. One of the hard parts. No guarantee the rest will be easier. ]

No. It never ends well.

[ She doesn't try to deny any of it or even ask him to keep it to himself. That part's obvious. No matter the surreal nature of the imagined future, even there they'd been together the whole time, drifting apart but never forever. She remembers. They fought (who didn't she fight with?) but they always helped each other when it mattered. ]

My powers have never been stable. No matter how hard I tried.

I summoned monsters from other worlds without meaning to. I opened doors, and things came through. I traveled to places no one should ever see. I lost people. I lost myself, at times.

Here-- everything is more unpredictable than ever.