The stranger's words sting Howl to his core. It's another confirmation of that dream not being a dream, of it being real and affecting them all; it's also the second time Howl is hearing about that strange darkness. He himself did not follow it, but he briefly sensed its presence when he was walking through the spectacular void. But that wasn't what makes him steel his jaw and lapse into a long silence - the stranger's final, more personal words, and the fellowship he feels upon hearing them, do that on their own.

Howl's silence continues several beats too long. He is loathe to disclose such personal details and unpleasant feelings to others. But is there a point to keeping it to himself in this place? For all they know, they are being marched to their deaths. Keeping quiet will do nothing to stop it, nor bring back all he's lost.

"My world was at war. I was throwing myself at it with no regard for my life. How stupid for it all to be gone now, and yet here I am... persisting."

It's only a droplet of his thoughts, but still more than he'd normally tell. His voice is low and controlled, but misery leaks into his tone. With a sigh, he pulls again at the corner of his hard bread, struggling for a few seconds before finally breaking off another piece.

"I do not remember it either. Perhaps we did die, even if we have no memory of it happening." It's more than plausible in Howl's case.