He doesn't fully recognise what is happening at first, thinking it some new trick of the Nightmare Realm as it slowly begins to crumble around him. His ears buzz with a white noise, like the hum of nethicite before it blows, It isn't until he breathes in, and the air has changed that Gabranth can recognise the difference. Instead of hot air, filled with ash and soot and the ever-present burn of non-mortal flames it is cool and damp, loamy and dead. Like a crypt or a grave.

Words filter in slowly with the recognition, as he starts to blink his eyes awake and try to take in his surroundings. This is your redemption. Trite, foolish words for a man such as him. A pointless goal, and one he would not have undertaken even were it possible.

"I would rather return to my hell, if you can manage it."

Sitting up is a struggle, hating the feeling of his crushed and shattered ribs re-knit, but injuries have not stopped him before, and they will not, now. The voice seems somewhat familiar, though, but unpleasant. Almost like Venat, with Vayne.

When Gabranth—when Noah, finally manages full consciousness, he rather wishes that he did not. He has not seen this one before, not that he can recall, but he knows the look of an Esper. And one like this? Can only mean he has been brought back to the one place he would much rather never return to.

Hell is preferable to Ivalice.

"And what use would you have for a dog, Esper, that you could not leave him to his own peace?"