"I was talking about turning a rock into a tree," Not that he was particularly good at doing such a thing himself. But regardless, if one looked close enough, just the faintest hint of a tug could be seen at the corner of his lips.

"Come on, no point in ruminating over how much of an idiot the old man is to the both of us when we have plenty of time to tell him that to his damn face once we get out of here," He says, making his way through the illusions. Walking forward, not hesitating. Even as they shuffled past the image of his master, now deceased once more, even as the scene began to change and warp to that of a dense forest, a now young teenage version of himself, covered in dirt and rags, seemed to linger nearby.

No, they needed to focus on the present.