[Even spoken with the lilt of jest, Jayce pointedly feels the truth of her statement; she anchored him to functionality amidst this absurdity. He rolls his shoulders, exhaling the stress puckering his lungs.]

I've heard about that much. Of other prisoners, [no beating around the bush,] calling for their homelands, their loved ones. Nothing I could pinpoint on Runeterra. [The conclusion he edges towards bottoms out that pit in his stomach.]

Thinking about how minuscule a probability I had running into you, I'm not sure we're going to find anything familiar. None of this feels real.