He inhales deeply, fills his lungs with air, before he releases that breath stuck in his chest. Relaxed, almost. In a manner akin to Tidus recognizing the end of his tale before anyone else could even mourn such a fate. An acceptance, a recognition born from irrevocable loss.

"I don't know." It's the most candid he can put it. Roland's never been one to lie, or sugarcoat the truth for someone else's benefit, including his own. "That's not something I've got any control over, it seems. Never has been. Getting sent to the second world wasn't my choice, either."