[This is bad, this is so bad. Prompto isn't sure what he did or how he did it, but there's a massive shadow in the shape of a naga hot on his heels.]

Dude!

[He flails his arms for emphasis, really hoping the bridge holds beneath his feet...even if he isn't sure how the bridge is holding at all. It's kinda just hanging there, suspended by a single column, but considering the door he's trying to reach is upside-down to his relative location and the rest of the world makes no sense whatsoever, he's decided he has bigger concerns.]

Hold the door! [Please hold the door. Even if you can't understand a word out of his mouth.]

[Prompto crouches to peer at the rows upon rows of shelves, all packed with...paper airplanes? He picks one up, turning it over in his hands. It's way neater than any of the planes he tried to fold as a kid; looks like it'll even fly more than a couple feet before nosediving into the ground. It inspires him to spin and find a target: the round face of an old-fashioned radio on the other side of the room.]

Peeerfecto! [He launches the plane, only for it to suddenly hit something invisible. Prompto freezes, hand outstretched to pick up another plane.]

Okaaay... That was weird. [This whole thing is weird. But that isn't going to stop him from chucking another plane at his invisible obstacle, to make sure he isn't seeing things.]

A | SUNNY SIDE UP;

[Prompto stares at a mirror, disturbed by his lack of reflection. He walks towards it, then takes a step back; hops out of view and then back into view.

So please forgive him when he sees a reflection that isn't his own and lets out a small shriek. If you're lucky, you can't hear a thing; if you're unlucky, you might've just gotten an earful through the white noise of a radio.]

B | MOON PIE ON THE SIDE;

[Alternatively, it takes him a minute to realize he is not, in fact, alone with the mirror and he turns with an awkward half-grin on his face.]

Swear I'm not a vampire.

[He laughs nervously. Stressed? Who's stressed?]

[Prompto's seen his share of storms; hell, he survived Leviathan. But at least gravity wasn't, like, a subjective concept. He didn't have to worry about trying to pry open a door and fighting to keep his balance, only to fall because gravity shifted ninety degrees.

He lands in a snow drift with a muffled thump and finds himself staring at the door, now directly over his head.]

Oh, come on. [He sits up, rubbing his arms and shivering, before turning to the nearest person in a similar predicament. He has to shout to hear himself over the wind.] You wouldn't happen to have any other ideas?!

[He does not want to die out here.]