[Justin, unaffected by the cold induced by sitting near the fountain that the City had seen fit to drop him into during winter, finally tires of waiting for what he’s convinced what must be a trick of the mind to dissipate and resolve itself into the nothingness of death. For a lack of any other distractions, he fumbles with the device he had found
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[For some reason the question breaks Lily's heart.]
I think that depends on a great deal of things. Why would you be dead?
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[The response from the device is met with subdued surprise.]
What? Why--I was... I should be. Dead. But this isn't what death should be like.
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No, it can't be. This can't be.
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Why don't we get you in out of the cold? There's a welcome center nearby. I'll meet you there if you like.
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[This is flat-out denial of something that looks increasingly possible.]
No. Thank you. This can't last long.
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I've been here nearly three months. [And then warmer, a bit louder.] Too long to spend the entire time sitting by the fountain.
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[He thinks for a moment and comes to the conclusion that outright denial isn't getting him anywhere.]
[blankly] Okay. ...What's your name?
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