Snow didn't say anything at first. It was slightly disorienting to hear her talk like that, like Fang was stuck in a place and time that Snow would've rather forgotten. He looked to Motley for help, as though the moogle would have some kind of answer somehow, but Motts was preoccupied with his MogNet tools. It didn't actually look like he was using them in any sort of meaningful way, though, and came off more like he was trying to put up a front that he was busy so that he didn't have to get involved in the conversation.

Snow turned back towards Fang, feeling anxious and unsure as to why. He had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with the sudden shift in her tone. There was a bit of grim resignation and hopelessness that he hadn't expected from her, and it too closely mirrored his own. It was one thing for him to throw his hands up in defeat, but he couldn't bear to hear it in Fang. She was too strong for that.

"Fang, that was over six months ago," he said cautiously. "We've been living in the new world since then. All of us. Vanille and Serah, too. Don't you remember?"