[ physical contact doesn't just keep him grounded - it draws his attention like a magnet, and he's embarrassed by how his breathing stutters. there must have been things like this in his old life, but he can't remember them. all he's ever known is small flashes of touch, a child's hand in his own while he leads them along. the support of Lux's back pressed to his, prolonged, would be dizzying if it weren't for the fear that the Mage stirs up.

as it is, the contact draws Jack out of his shock and terror enough to breathe, to be focused rather than in a state of panicked alertness. ]

Right. The guy he's pretending to be wouldn't be down here, not in a million years. This is just a trick.

Do you have so little faith in yourself that you won't even believe your own eyes? [ a man dressed in white steps into view from one of the tunnels, his clothes formal and aristocratic, face hidden by a hooded white cloak. Jack stumbles away, his arm thrown out to shield Lux and usher her back too, even though the Mage's hands are folded behind his back and he shows no signs of aggression. ] Well, she asks me to be plain, and I suppose I should. Gods know Jack never would.

Stop it. [ Jack's voice is thin with stress. the hand he has held out across Lux is shaking. ] He's not here, this isn't real.

[ and it clearly isn't. unlike the convincing illusion that Lux's haunting had boasted, the Mage's features are indistinguishable, and it's a jarring thing to look at. as if there is something there that the eye simply refuses to see. the harder one tries to look at him, the more confusing it becomes. he is the kind of figure that is only ever meant to be glimpsed, the details of him lost by Jack's vague memory. still, Jack doesn't seem to be any less affected by his presence. it's not clear whether Jack has even noticed the incongruities of his spectre. ]

Does she know what you are? You've been vocal enough about that, at least.