Emet-Selch looks up longingly at the buildings that surround him. Once happy and buzzing with life and laughter, here they sit. Silent and ruined as the graves they mark.

He observes as the illusion fades. The ominous morning gives way to the blood-red evening skies of Venera, and each wonderfully ruined spire quickly slips back to the flower-filled archways and daintily carved architecture of the city.

He doesn't say anything to Howl. The link between them is quietly severed in silent dismissal.