[Jon's lips thin as he glances away. Fine. Less discretion. No metaphor. He lowers his voice, wrapping a hand around the bar as he leans in.]

Look. I was a few dozen words away from ending my world, when Ambrose summoned me here. Not by my choice. I was made to be a tool to call all the Entities of fear through whatever held them back and remake my world to serve them.

And now I'm here. In arm's reach of, allegedly, a link between all worlds. Everywhere.