[It's an odd subject, somewhat difficult perhaps, considering that - more and more - he's come to see Haise as someone who's company he can endure. More than endure, for all that it's still a difficult thing to put into concrete form.

He's still unwilling to use words like 'friend', even in his own thoughts, regardless of the fact that he wouldn't deny it were the word presented to him by another.]

At the risk of sounding repetitive, it seems too big a gamble to take. Something else might emerge from the mindlessness those people have been forced into, but it won't be them. They won't be what they were. It's not the kind of existence one would willingly choose, I don't think.

[He wouldn't choose it. Even if something should emerge in his place, when his mind dissolves into nothing, it won't be him. All those precious memories that are dark-edged and ugly yes but still have something bright at their centre, still have meaning to him-- they'd be lost forever. Lily. Heine. Arthur. Lott. All of it, gone. He can't think of anything worse.]

But as you say, here we are, and we have this mess to clean up because of it. Not that I'm complaining on that count. I'm only hoping that, this time, people won't mistake their own need to assuage their guilt as mercy.