The two young men enter and it's both welcome and extremely nerve-wracking. It's intensely striking to see the two pale-haired young men side by side, cutting a contrast to Lazarus as well as to each other. He knows innately that they're the future, his future, whether or not he's present for it, and even though he realized it since reconnecting with Nathan, there's a distinctly sobering quality to seeing them both with his own eyes.

L wouldn't dread his death, seeing them here like this. He'd see his immortality.

He stands, reasoning that he'll have to sooner or later anyway. He favors his damaged right leg but doesn't limp, and there's some kind of pride in that. Extending a hand for Micah to shake as he registers Nathan setting up his puzzle in his peripheral vision, he feels the same by-now familiar sensation.

Chocolate. Because he saw, and we shared, and he remembered. His eyes are sadder and hollower when they meet Micah's, but he answers the question.

"It was a real name. Those were very valuable where our Others were from, and very dangerous. Our truths and secrets and lives were very closely connected."

He takes his seat again, nodding at the two available chairs, should either of them want to take one.

"You've met and spoken, clearly. Tell me how that's going."