The drugged haze has indeed been most inconvenient, and Moran even found the time to be angry about it in the rare moments of clarity before they were put under again. There is something profoundly upsetting to him to feel his mind be sluggish, even more than his body.

Not much of what he remembers seeing makes sense - dead people moving about is a clear biological impossibility, and yet.... - although he can see that the cages they were kept in seem to be relatively less full than he recalls on his first few forays out of the drug fog.

For now, he's stumbled near the fire, the quartz clutched in his hand, when he hears a familiar voice.

"... Su Xunxian! Where are you?"