[Mikleo doesn't have the chance to respond. Eren's there, felt before he's seen, which is a rather new sensation. It reminds him of the palpable distance between himself and his vessel when he was still helping Shepherds. Some part of him is still a little surprised by movement in the darkness but it's soon chased by a sad smile of recognition that doesn't quite meet his eyes.

He watches Eren settle down, still quiet. When he's settled, Mikleo isn't too shy to nestle up against him. Eren might be dusty but Mikleo can't bother caring right now. The weight of Eren's hand on his shoulder is equally comforting, as Mikleo becomes aware of his magic settling, calming, spreading between them like wax melting slowly in the sun.

He closes his eyes, covers Eren's hand with his own. He'll always be a little bit colder.]

That's what I'm hoping. He wasn't hurt or I would have felt it. I woke up and he was just... gone.

[The hollowness feels less when they're like this, strangely enough.]

I thought destroying the mirrors could hurt us too. I haven't tried but it seemed like common sense to me.

What I do know is he would never leave me behind if he had a choice. And so... if he's gone, he didn't crack his own mirror.