<blockquote>


    "You were never our friend. You used us. You’re no different from the damned Iteri. But if I had not destroyed them, then maybe we wouldn''t be here today."


    – Letters of Admission, Letter 3


    </blockquote>


    “No doubt they’ll be asking me questions,” he thought. On the ground floor, he kicked the trash, scattering cardboard and a tin cup of old pens. “What a waste.” He turned and left “the tower” as he likes to call it. Then, turning back, eyes to the floor he left her at, “she’ll be safe here,” he muttered to himself, “she’ll be safe. It’ll be okay.”


    “That’s right, nothing important. When this is done, I’ll be dead all the same. It won’t matter.” William continued his line of thought.


    “So much struggle for so little,” he thought, eyes transfixed to the floor. “Why bring so many people back? Why make so much? Why….no, don’t ask questions. Questions lead to thinking, and thinking leads to problems. Don’t think. Don’t care. Don’t worry. Do what you can, then be done and die.”


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    “Hello everyone!”


    living, gentleman.


    seems as though the man doesn’t exist, that our dreams are only dreams, but we are evidence of his existence, are we not? Not to mention the moon being as it is, that alone implies his being within our realm. Do we have anything to report?”


    will have our justice.”


    “Almost hopeful, almost better, almost…. I’m so tired. Let it end.”