Bariyan thought about that. He'd spent the past day assuming that it would all be undone, soon, that he'd blink and feel a sharp edge against his throat and that would be that.

He hadn't dared to think about what would happen if he were allowed to stay here. A while. A few years. Perhaps longer....

No. That couldn't be allowed to happen. He was not going to run away from death.

So he laughed instead, a defense mechanism that kept his doomed mindset from cracking through the surface, and looked forwards.

"Perhaps," he said. "That appears to be out of our control, however. Have you been here a long time, Martin?"