It was everywhere, and much thicker than Jon had ever seen it.

Of course he couldn't have not seen the swirling tendrils than snakes around Martin's ankles whenever Jon caught a glimpse of his disappearing, but this was different. It followed his every step, as though he was walking in a cloud.

"Martin..." Jon breathed.

Martin jumped and looked up at him.

"Oh. Hello, Jon." His voice was echoing and deadpan.

Jon just stared at him.

"Are you... keeping well?" He finally managed to stutter out.

"Oh... um," said Martin. "Yes. I am. Very well." he gave a little laugh. It was a cold, humorless laugh- nothing like what came to mind when he thought of Martin's. The divergence was so shocking that, for a moment, Jon couldn't believe the sound had come from him at all. "But I'm busy. Goodbye, Jon."

And before he could say another word, Martin had turned and was marching down the corridor away from him.

Jon stared after him, waves of shock and sadness crashing over him, as he watched the fog drift down the corridor.