Raphael nodded his head slowly. Yes, the dream was real and the source of all of his pathetic misfortune. He had a few ideas why and what may have happened but he couldn't voice them here. Lazar would know and he'd hurt him. He'd cut his head open and scramble his brain if he had to, whatever it took to keep him here.

He raised his hand and touched his mouth, threads still hanging from his lips. He scratched at them in frustration. They hurt but he was afraid to take them properly out. Lazar didn't say he was allowed.