Oh. Peter turns away then, sorry Héctor. He just can't bear the sight of flesh dissolving into magic for some reason, so better to look over here at this corner and not have a minor panic attack.

"It was still him," he insists. He won't try to blame himself more but. "My uncle - he's been dead for seven months, but we saw him at the gazebo tonight." He swallows thickly. "And he turned into some kind of monster. I - I don't know what kind."

Except undead, obviously, but not Héctor's kind of undead? He's never seen anything like it.