[ One eyebrow shoots straight up, the one not masked by the curtain of hair that hides one eye. Still, Mitsuru is far too composed to gasp or stare or anything too dramatic, even as her mind churns to make sense of this. A man lost in the Dark Hour is one thing. But if he's to be believed about where he had been only a moment prior, that... makes no sense. Even the ocean here wouldn't make it such a simple matter to find himself here, like this. Not so swiftly. And that name... ]

... Ratonhnha... [ She's aware she already botched it two syllables in, but she forces herself to continue, stubbornly. ] ... ké:ton.

[ She tries not to wince. ]

To begin simply, you're in Japan. Less simply, you're one of the only conscious figures currently in what I know as the Dark Hour.