Adrien bit his fingers. Within this chaos, one thing was clear in his mind: he needed to escape. He looked towards the window: the almost full moon was high in the sky. Adrien swallowed. If he were to flee in the middle of the night, at least he wouldn't have to do so in pitch darkness, he thought. The door to the north tower wasn't locked, as far as he knew - with some luck, he could even take the staff with himself for protection as he ran down the snowy path. In either case, he'd surely arrive to the village before morning. If he kept running, he'd arrive to the next town by nightfall... How fast could a demon run?

He crushed his head between his hands. What would he have given to return to the world in which he lived only a few minutes before - the world in which Val was his kind mentor, his dear friend, his partner in crime. Each moment, he wanted to deny what he had just seen as misunderstanding, hallucination, or just plain imagination - and each moment after, he was grappled by the unshakeable knowledge that his nightmare was fully awake.