There is— something bright and shimmering, like a firefly that flickers into view. Emet-Selch might not be able to see it, but Kaeya can make out the shape of it just fine, starry eye widening out of recognition. It's like he doesn't even realize that he is being addressed when he reaches forward to catch the thing in his hand. His grasp stops short of touching the other man.

When his hand retreats, his palm opens up to reveal nothing, a frown settling on his lips. It's only right there and then that he realizes someone else is closeby, gaze locking with Emet-Selch's.

"Oh," he says, as if he didn't notice the man had been there for a while, "Is it tomorrow already?"