He almost curses when a sudden, sharp gust of wind blows sand and salt water into his face. It's as if the weather is shooting ice into his eyes. How nice. He has to turn his head, close his eyes, and throw up an arm to shield himself. Does this mean there's a storm coming in?

Heck if he knows. Atmospheric conditions over the ocean weren't something he'd really studied.

When he lowers his arm, it seems as if it actually was a good thing he'd come out here. There's a shape in the surf. One that wasn't there a moment ago. So he squares his shoulders, steps forward...

... and stops dead.

The ice from the wind feels as if it's worked its way into his blood, pooling to pinpricks in his chest. It - has to be a hallucination. Right? It's a new month, so, new horrors? That was their life now, right? It... No, that's his voice. No one else would call him by that name, and none of the visions yet had spoken.

For a long, unsteady moment of silence, Shiro's fairly sure he's stopped breathing.

"... Adam?"