They are on a small, arid moon: dry as dust, and bitterly cold. The night suffocates all sound, dampening the crunch and whir of the world so that Hux thinks he may drown in the silence. Further ahead, standing on a patch of glistening snow, he sees Kylo Ren’s half-shadowed figure. He is unspeakably other, sharp and aristocratic in his flowing lines and crisp movements, and Hux feels a clenching twist low in his gut at the thought.