“Ah, my mistake. I assumed military time,” he assures him in that same blunt tone.

Cooper then pauses and leans back in his chair while focusing. Thoughts aren’t spinning through his head the way they used to. His mind had dulled while in the Black Lodge, and he had found himself in something of a meditative state for much of it. Speaking still feels harsh on his own tongue, and his volume seems to fluctuate with much more intensity. The echo of it rings in his ears.

“Tell me, Mr. Cerrit Agrupnin,” he says, voice much softer than before. “What do you make of this place?”