Shortly after Darcy arrives, the elevator doors open again. Dimitri steps out, gaze darting uneasily, hand resting loose on his sword-hilt.

"I don't know what she wants," he tells Darcy as they head towards Windjammer. "She hasn't said anything more. I'm not terribly concerned, but ... " He trails off. After October, it's hard to trust that anyone's themself. The possessions seem to have stopped, but how certain can they be?

Suspicion along with every other thought flees his mind when they cross into the buffet. Even at a distance, at a bad angle, he knows that silhouette anywhere, as surely as his own shadow. Dimitri freezes in his tracks. His throat ties itself in a knot, but his voice escapes despite itself, small and strangled --

"Dedue?"