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In the room with the blue door, Duncan and his party were silent, while the twisted mass of organic tissue adhering to the door remained silently as well.
After an unknown amount of time had passed, Duncan suddenly broke the silence, "Is there anything else we can help you with?"
"I don't seem to have any regrets," came Cristo's voice, "nor can I think of anything to ask for—what can you do for a soul that's been dead for many years, kind strangers?"
"What about your family?" Vanna couldn't help but ask.
"Family..." Cristo evidently hesitated for a moment, as if some memories had only just appeared within his twisted "shell," "Oh, right, my family... My wife and daughter, they live in Frost, at the end of Fireplace Street..."