N-not like this. [ He half laughs. ] It's— [ he gestures to the night air ] —more like this at a default.

A millennia ago there was a terrible cataclysm, enough to sunder gates of death and the very sun. Since then the sun's been small and shattered, barely a spit in the sky.

[ It's normal. He's used to it... but he's also seen forbidden paintings, depictions of what life was supposedly like pre-Catalcym. It was bright and colorful and Somnius offered something close to his imagination, even if in actual practice it resulted in a lot of squinting earlier in the day. ]