The fog hasn't gone anywhere. And— where are you going?

[ For a moment it's like watching his waking daymares from a few months ago again. Emmet hesitates, lagging behind for the space of half a beat, two— what if the ground shifts itself and gives away again due to his haste, what if by barreling forward he springs some other trap laid along whatever path it is Ingo is following— before darting forward to put himself in front of Ingo. ]

Ingo, please. I need you to look at me. I am Emmet. I know that here, it is hard to trust what we perceive. But I have been here with you the entire way. I have not heard or seen anything that you are talking about. And that is concerning me.

[ At least one of them has to be wrong, and of the two— if the fog truly has lifted, then shouldn't they be seeing and hearing the same things? Therefore, ]

I do not believe it is a good idea to progress further down this track.