The much diminished Andre can't help but explore the new limits of himself, racing from one end of the web to the other like a spider in a tube, to ensure that it's all still there. So small. There's Benjamin, drugged so deeply that he can't even think, just a sleeping mind on the couch of his mental apartment, the TV on but nothing but static.
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I'm afraid.
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No... I don't want to lose that too. There's no strength, no conviction.
He's so tired and small and thin, now. Everything he has left is precious, isn't it? But the fear is so draining.
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