Ronan has a pretty clear idea what would happen to him down in that dungeon. He shouldn't have even visited. Just a few minutes down there felt like it cut his time in half. He touches his nose again, but there's still no sign of the nightwash. Soon, though. He can feel it coming for him soon.

"Three people from your world," he muses. "I'm the only one from mine, far as I know." Probably a blessing, all things considered. Is there anyone left who wants to see him survive?

That line of thought exhausts him further. He drags himself over to his bed and leans against it. He can't get too comfortable. Can't sleep yet. Nadine looks so breakable. Or does he only think that because she looks like his mother?

"You don't have a gun or anything, do you? A sword or some shit?"