Nyx wasn't the only one who had pushed through the initial disorientation. He'd forced himself up to look for his friends - his brothers - recognizing that this wasn't where he was supposed to be. Even though now, as he leaned back in his seat, he wanted nothing more than to go back to them. They needed time. He needed time.

That's when he hears a voice he never thought he'd hear again. Blinking, he turns his head to the voice's owner. Jaw surprisingly less slacked than the Glaive likely remembers.

"Nyx Ulric..." He's on his feet in seconds, if only to close the distance in case the older man loses his balance. That, and it's awkward talking to someone behind you like that. "Don't know. Your guess is as good as mine."

Other than, you know. Space. Which is quite obvious from the view outside the window.