"Is this some kind of fucking joke?" Wilson asked angrily. The other figure raised his hands in a placative gesture.

"Let me explain," he said quickly. Wilson had to admit, it was good to hear a voice from which he could easily determine its origin.

"Let's just get this straight-I'm you," the voice continued. "I'm every conclusion you should have made, every thought you should have had. I'm the part of you that wanted to know ARES' angle, why he was in the Director's head." This only served to confuse Wilson further.

"What the hell are you talking about?" The other figure sighed.

"Do you remember, all those times, you would ask ARES about who he was, or get suspicious of him?" Wilson hadn't thought about it in a while, but he nodded slowly.

"Do you remember how, every time you asked, he would cut you off with a few words?" Wilson's brow furrowed-he couldn't quite recall it. The other man sighed.

"'Not important'. That's what he'd say, every time." At this point, comprehension dawned within Wilson. He remembered everything.

"That's not important..."
"Whatever, it's not important..."
"Listen to me: It's not important..."

Wilson even remembered that, at one point, he'd cut ARES off in the middle of saying it.

"Well," the man said, continuing, "it just so happens that it wasn't a coincidence." Wilson cocked an eyebrow.

"Explain?"

"Every time he said that, he was manipulating you," the other man said, folding his arms. "Every time you'd get too close, he just had to say those two words, and you'd immediately switch topics. You never even realised you were doing it, because he sealed that realisation up with it." Wilson began to think back on all of those times, and he had to admit, the man had a point. All the same, however, Wilson folded his arms, mirroring his other self's gesture.

"You'll forgive me if I find this hard to believe," he said, skeptically. He was reasonably sure that the man was telling the truth, but if he was lying to him, it would be better to bait him into showing his hand. He smiled inwardly as the other man frowned.

"Well, forgive me for trying to help, asshole," he said, somewhat offended. "I mean, it's not like I've been screaming at you the entire time, or anything." Wilson began to frown himself at this point-though it was more worried than offended.

"What do you mean by that? And how did you come to be?" The alternate Wilson sighed at this.

"I told you already: All those conclusions you should have made congealed into me. From the moment I realised that ARES was bad news, I tried to contact you. He just kept blocking me out, though." The man actually smiled at this point. "Thing is, though, when he blocked you off after you ate the Director, he gave me enough power to hijack that same controlling method he used on you." Wilson remembered now-the voice in his head on the way to PARIAH.

"So that was you saying 'Mercer', all that time." The other man nodded.

"It was a bitch to pull off, but I managed it," he said, looking rather proud. "See, thing is, I tried to get in contact with you the normal way at first, but ARES just kept blocking me." He was speaking rather quickly now. "So, I stuck a trigger phrase in your head, based on something you were already obsessed with-namely, killing the Mercers." His smile fell a little bit as he continued. "It wasn't quite enough, but I managed to break your train of thought when you started getting too into his plan. Then PARIAH showed up, and, well, all it took was a little push from there." Wilson frowned at this.

"So you manipulated me?" The other Wilson's face fell a little.

"You would have thought that way anyway, if you were sane," he said, looking a little defensive. "I just got you pointing in the right direction." Wilson thought about it, then nodded slowly.

"One last question," he said, thinking. "How did ARES manage to block out my memories? How is that even possible?" The other man sighed once again.

"The truth is...you weren't experiencing those memories directly," he said, looking uncomfortable. "You haven't experienced anything directly for the past few days." Wilson looked slightly confused at this.

"What do you mean by that? I mean, I know the virus consumes its host-that's a given. But the host normally stays in control." The repressed Wilson held up a hand here, forestalling him.

"This virus...it's not acting like it should," he said thoughtfully. "You haven't had the time to think about it, thanks to ARES, but it's too aggressive. Too controlling. It's too...important." Wilson raised an eyebrow at this.

"What do you mean by that" The man shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"You're not really in control of that body," he said, at last. "ARES has been passing everything through to you." Wilson actually took a step back in shock.

"What the hell do you mean?" He had assumed ARES to be in a supporting position-the entire situation had just been turned on its head.

"Every time you thought you were doing something, it passed through ARES first. I've been watching it happen." Wilson shook his head-it was almost too much to comprehend.

"...Any other bad news?" he asked tentatively. Wilson's other self, unfortunately, nodded.

"ARES has been getting more powerful with each kill you make. Eventually..." He paused for a moment, an uncomfortable look on his face. "...Eventually, I think he's gonna try and take over."

"Well this gets better and better," Wilson said, his eyes widening. The other man nodded.

"Yeah. Listen, we don't have much time left." Wilson was surprised by the man's sudden shift in topic.

"What?" he said quickly. "Why?"

"Simply put: the Mercers." Wilson nodded, comprehension dawning on his face. The Mercers had been after him-though he was surprised they'd taken this long to get to him. As he pondered this, another thought crossed his mind.

"What will you do, now?" he asked, tentatively. The other him considered the thought for a moment, before a look of resignation came across his face.

"I've done what I was trying to do," he said, sighing. "I'm just an aspect of you. Now, Wilson..." He walked over to the man whose face he had taken, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Consume me," he said, looking Wilson straight in the eyes. Wilson's eyes widened at this.

"But..." Before he could say and more, his doppelganger held up his hand.

"David...this void...it's my world, now," he said, sadly. "I'm just an aspect of you, like a missing limb." He put his other hand on Wilson's opposite shoulder. "Just let me back into your head, so you can finally think like a sane fucking person." Wilson looked down slightly, before his arm broke apart into a mass of tentacles and reformed into a long, smooth blade. He raised the edge to his duplicate's neck, then braced himself for the slash.

"One more thing." Wilson looked into the other man's eyes, an inquisitive look on his face.

"Promise me that, when the time comes, you'll take your body back from that fucking asshole." Wilson smiled and nodded, before slashing the blade sideways, clefting his doppelganger's head from his shoulders. As tendrils sprung from Wilson's back, dragging the body into him, he was suddenly overcome by another wave of pain. In spite of it, he could feel himself being dragged into another memory. One that he hadn't expected.

His own.

David's back hit the wall behind him, and with the resistance came a sinking feeling unlike any he had felt before. Tears of pure, unbridled terror were streaming down his face, as the infected woman slowly advanced on him. As she ran her hand on the wall beside her, a red growth blossomed out, growing over the building, searching for something to consume.

"Looks like your luck ran out, kid," she said, a smile growing on her face. David, with little other option, let out a whimper as he curled up, too scared to even speak. The Runner stretched her hand out, ready to add another to her ever-growing flock.

That was when, out of nowhere, a steel bar smacked into the side of her head, sending her sprawling. The boy holding it was slightly older than David, however, he possessed the same crop of blonde hair, a look of furious determination on his face. He turned to face the Runner.

"Dave." he said, not taking his eyes off of her, as she slowly stood up once again. "Can you run?" David stood up, as quickly as he could, the shock of the situation still disorienting him.

"Umm...yeah, I think..." A smile touched the older boy's mouth.

"Good." He gripped the bar more tightly as he said his next words. "Dave, I want you to run. As fast, and as far away from here as you can." David's eyes widened at this.

"But she'll kill you!" A look of resignation crossed the other boy's face.

"I know. Run." At this, tears began to run down David's face once again.

"Aaron, no! Please.." Aaron Wilson turned to face his brother.

"David, it's you or me. You being safe is more important than anything." It was at this point that the Runner stood up completely and charged at Aaron, her face filled with rage. He, for his part, gripped the bar more tightly, before swinging it hard into her head once again.

"GO!" he shouted quickly. With tears in his eyes, David turned and ran, as fast as he could, in the opposite direction. When he reached the end of the alleyway, he turned and looked back, just once.

It was long enough for him to see his brother's head ripped from his shoulders.

David Wilson's eyes flew open. He realised that he was on his back, staring up at the ceiling. PARIAH stood above him, looking incredibly relieved.

"Oh, you're alright! I was...worried you would turn out like...the ones I..." Wilson's mind, however, was far away from his current location.

That memory...he must have repressed it. Two Bluff...the Runner...his brother. He remembered that Alex Mercer had once asked him why he was pursuing them. He'd given a generic answer, back then. But here, he realised...seeing Dana Mercer kill his squad...It had brought up unpleasant feelings in his mind.

But now that he had a reason behind his hatred, he found that he couldn't identify with it anymore. To kill two completely unrelated people, based on a tangential connection? Blackwatch would have supported it, but they had abandoned him. ARES had tried to push him into it, but he could see the truth behind his actions now. And he could easily rationalise that they had killed thousands of innocent people...but he was just as bad, now.

The truth was...any reason he could find for killing the Mercers had evaporated by this point. He was on the exact same level as them now, and...well, he had nothing left.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the sound of footsteps running down the corridor.

The Mercers probably wouldn't be open to negotiation at first glance. He needed to get out of the way, and quickly. He knew the truth now-the whole truth-and he wasn't sure where he could go from there. He was a soldier without a cause. He needed something to give him purpose-somewhere to belong. And maybe-just maybe-the Mercers could offer it.

The Author Rides Again: And there we have it. Hand revealed. Plot threads pretty much all wrapped up, apart from a couple of big ones, which I'll let you guys stew on for the week. We're almost at the end of the road, people. Let's make this shit count.