—-Ah. It seems the door leading to the Velvet Room has opened. As the haunting Opera of the Soul plays faintly via the speakers that decorate the halls of Minato’s dreamworld, his hands slip a little further into his pockets, his head tilting off to the side. His slouched posture straightens just a tad, before he quietly observes the visitor.
A Velvet Room uniform. Is he related to Elizabeth, he briefly ponders?
“Were you looking for Philemon?”
It is his default question for those who are fellow dwellers upon the border of consciousness and unconsciousness.