Believe me, officer, [he says, a noticeable tone of weariness entering his voice,] it is as much a mystery to me as it is you. Perhaps it is some sort of displacement forced upon by traveling through the Pale. Or, perhaps this is all just some sort of elaborate fantasy created by our collective consciousness minutes before our deaths.

[Maybe they all just crashed in the car on the way to the precinct and have been suffering from hypothermia in the cold, dark sea while these images flash through their minds. Frankly, Kim would find it preferable to what he's going through right now.

When Jean broaches the subject of Detective Du Bois, Kim's posture seems to stiffen slightly. His voice lowers, and a sense of earnest concern can be felt in his words.]

No. I haven't been trying to push the detective too much to recall his memories, but...it seems whatever scraps remain will take their time to resurface. If they plan to resurface, at all. [A pause.] The Harrier Du Bois you once knew might never reappear.

[He shakes his head. As he does so, he doesn't seem to notice his scarf slipping again. The tusks protruding from his lower jaw can be seen, unmistakably there and glinting in the dim illumination from the streetlamps.]