Masque stands to the side, squinting ahead of them.

"I think I can see Rin's," they say. "But it might be an illusion."

"And here I thought mirages only happened in deserts."

"You'd be surprised where mirages might happen."

"You know? I would. If you hadn't tried to rob me back in Luca, I would've thought you were a mirage."

-Curious, confused headtilt.

"The- you know, the..." He gestures at his face. 

Good one, Zveran. He mentally slaps himself.

"-Ah. My mask."

"Yes. It's quite fantastical."

"It serves its purpose."

He does not press for further clarification of what that purpose is. 

He instead closes his eyes, and tries to connect with his aeons.

Masque leans against the lightning rod, keeping watch.

Aten is right there, a warm, constant presence. (Yet shy, withdrawn, concerned.)

They all feel very far away, like he's reaching for something he only just can't touch. 

The feeling actually hurts.

Aten seems perplexed somehow - he's never encountered a summoner like this.

Zveran can feel his concern, and that makes the hurt worse somehow. He's so connected to Aten, why can't he do that with the others?

He tries again, but the feeling is like pulling a piece of fabric near to ripping.

"Stop," Aten says quietly. "You'll hurt yourself. Hurt them."

The shocks Zveran into stopping. "I didn't realise I would- of course. Yes, anything I do compounds on them."

-Aten pretty clearly wasn't expecting Zveran to actually stop.

"I'm not good at this, Aten. I need more help than you might realise, but I thank you for any insight you can give me."

...Oh.

"I- I'll try."

Zveran gives the aeon a rueful smile. "I won't blame you if you feel you can't."

He stands, finally, shaking off his tiredness. "Let's see if that Rin's is indeed a mirage."

Masque offers a hand to help him to his feet.

Zveran takes it, and hesitates to let go once he's up.

Masque hesitates, and then carefully extracts their hand.

Zveran's hand drops back to his side. 

"Right. Yes. Onwards."