Had a lot of fun with this chapter, exploring more of the Far Harbor story and dialogue with DiMa. I thought it would be a lot of fun to have Danse there - and it was. I apologize if it seems rushed. I was really trying to stick to the game - which can develop really quickly. Let me know if you enjoy staying true to the story laid out in the game or if you'd like to see some more improvisations from me!

Hope you enjoy!

THE ARTIFICIAL SOUL

The night in the cave, seemed to drag on for an eternity. Though I slept enough to dream, each dream was lucid enough to wake me. My heart staggering, a cold sweat pebbling on my skin. I'd wake suddenly, oblivious to my surroundings, my mouth stale and bitter, with ice in my veins. Even when I realized where I was, found Danse's silhouette in the dark to reassure myself, I could not shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong. So, the night spiraled on and on, until dim, little pylons of sunlight wafted into the mouth of the cave.

I awoke to find Danse looming over me. I could barely make out his features in the hazy, dull morning light. I rubbed the corners of my tired eyes. We should have left before first light, but he must have let me sleep longer. I was in rough shape, so it was appreciated.

"You talked in your sleep," he said, candidly. I blinked away my exhaustion and sat to my side. I ran my fingers through my tangled tresses and sighed. I always talked in my sleep. Especially when I was particularly uneasy - at times I would sleepwalk. My grandmother even brought me to a physician once, on the advice of one of her friends. It was mostly innocuous, though quite bad when I was a little girl.

"Bad dreams," I replied with a wave of my hand. Also, I'm so stressed if someone were to light a fuse, I'd probably explode into a million, irreparable pieces.

Small, fragmented shards of my slumbering nightmares crept back to me. I couldn't quite piece them together yet, but I could feel the impending dread in the traces of them. Bad dreams, indeed.

As I stretched my legs, every muscle and tendon in my body screamed in stiff, feverish agony. I grimaced, bringing my hands to the ridges of my bruised ribs. My wrist, though no longer broken, hissed at me with every slight moment. I could feel the raw pulsing, that was my healing head wound.

"You nearly attracted every creature in a ten mile radius," Danse said warily, his eyes searching mine. I heaved forward and stood to unsteady feet.

"Sorry," I replied curtly. My head felt like it was slowly spinning. My stomach ached, as it reminded me I had not eaten since the afternoon before. "Nightmares," I rolled my eyes. I noticed a small look of chagrin on his face. "You don't dream?" I asked slowly. Danse shook his head but tried to seem indifferent to the idea. "Makes sense," I said softly to myself. I guess you would have to have a wealth of memories to pull from in order to dream. Or maybe some kind of soul, whatever made us into who we were. "You're not missing out," I said sourly. I was sure some people had nice dreams, filled with memories that felt warm and reminded them of better times. But any good memories I had left, were just painful. Like black ink had spilled all over them, turning them into dark, blurred renditions of what they once were.

I could tell he wanted to tell me something. Why did he have to make sharing so complicated? I looked at him, expectantly. "We should get going," he finally said, straightening the strap of his rifle. I didn't know, what was left between us, exactly, but I felt tremendous guilt for the things I had said to him, in my anger. As he turned back towards the cave entrance, I almost reached out to touch his arm. But I knew, whatever he was thinking was rooted in the long-held idea, that he was nothing more than a machine and incapable of anything deeper than what was planted within him. I'd even confirmed it for him. I felt so completely ashamed.

I didn't have anything on my person, so leaving was as easy as following Danse out. The fog had spread further outward, seeming to head towards the Harbor. The swaths of mist had thinned further inland, where we were. The sun burst through the heather with new found vigor. I enjoyed how it felt on my skin, still slick with sweat.

Our first objective, was to locate my shotgun, which I had dropped on my tumble down the hillside where I had broken my wrist. Finding the incline was easy enough. But the ground was covered in thick, waist high, yellowed grass.

As we poked around, looking for the glint of black metal, I gave a noisy sigh. "I loved that gun," I said, putting my hands on my hips and letting my head loll back to take in the sun. Danse glanced at me, still scrounging among the grass, mud and brush. "I won it in a poker game," I said, almost pouting.

"Gambling now too?" he said gruffly. I rolled my eyes and continued to search.

"Well, I think I'm entitled to one or two vices," I replied, using my boot to push around the edges of a rotting log. "It was an antique," I whined, "They don't make weaponry like that anymore, you know?"

"It wasn't very effective anyway," he said, as frank as always. I glowered at him.

"Me or the gun?"

He paused, and struggled to pull something up from the earth. Finally, he produced my shotgun. It was covered in mud and the wooden stock had split down the middle. I almost felt like crying. "Nooo," I said softly, taking it from him and cradling it as if it were my child.

"Both," he finally said, wiping the mud from his hands. I shot him a venomous glare. He ignored me, and adjusted his rifle absentmindedly.

"Okay, well it's not standard issue, but it's light and flexible and in the right hands," I said looking down at it and giving it a shake, "It can be more than effective," I stated, giving him a smug, proud look. He gave me a slow stare, that was not buying it. "This fine American firearm has gotten me though a lot, I'll have you know," I sneered. Danse ignored me some more and finally started back up the hill we had descended in our haste to escape the creatures. I growled and slipped my now useless weapon, back into its holster. "Well great, now I'm unarmed," I said, feeling almost naked without a weapon.

"We're not far from Acadia," he replied gruffly. I paused, something building on my tongue, but I thought better of it and remained quiet.

After we had made up the time we lost during our escape, we reached Acadia rather quickly. It was hard to miss. It consisted of heavy fortifications, a large, domed building and several smaller buildings, with stairs. I could have easily found it on my own, it was practically a beacon.

As we stood at its front gates, Danse turned to me and sighed, I could see apprehension written all over his face. I thumbed a button on my coat.

"You don't want to go in there," I stated, already knowing his answer. Even if he wouldn't say it. "Don't you think it might make you feel better? To be around people like you?" I said, softly, trying to reassure him. He looked disgusted by my words. I suppose you aren't under the tutelage of Elder Maxson for that long and come out being anything but brainwashed and prejudiced.

"No," he stated firmly. I sighed and slowly walked into the gate. "I don't think you should go alone," he said, quickly. I looked over my shoulder at him. It felt like he was genuinely concerned, if I could even believe that.

"Well then?" I said, quirking a brow. He begrudgingly followed me. I imagined him being a small child, arms crossed, grumbling along behind their mother. But I dun wanna. Such a big, self-loathing baby.

We entered through a steel door, located on the side of a metal building, jutting out from the large dome structure. The sound of the old, rusted hinges echoed down a long hallway. Danse gripped his rifle tightly, following me with a hard scowl on his face. As we strode towards a large opening at the end of a hallway, I began to notice thousands of terminals. Screens on every wall, various machines, wires and technology surrounding the circular room that lay ahead. In the center, stood a large concrete structure, lined with more terminals.

Suddenly, someone spoke. A soft voice, monotone, but self-assured. It reminded me of Danse, in a way. "You know, when I first climbed this mountain, above the fog... I thought to myself: now here is a metaphor worth taking in." As we reached the dome, I could see the figure of a man - or what appeared to be a man - slowly walking down a set of circular steps towards us. He was like any other synth that was not what they called Generation Three. Robotic in nature, with human features, covered in smooth, plastic, white sheeting. But in various places on his body, poked wires, conduits and tubing. His legs, were covered in some sort of meshing. One hand was missing its outer white layer and exposed five, metal digits. A ragged, dark cloth covered his torso, where a human man might be inclined to be modest. "You've entered a place of clarity... understanding... peace. While you're here in Acadia, synth kind welcomes you - as long as you welcome us." To say he wasn't a little bit terrifying would be an understatement. But I had been around his kind for so long, it hardly phased me. Danse, however, was all but annoyed with the words coming from the synth's mechanical mouth. I think he might have growled.

"What... are you?" I said, taking in his appearance as kindly as I could.

"I told you," he said, almost smiling, "I am the old synth on the mountain," following up with a gentle chuckle. "I know the plastic skin and tubes out the back can be... unsettling," he said softly, his gaze fell to Danse, who was the most uncomfortable I had ever seen him. "But I want to ask you to look past that. Tell me why you're here and I'll try to help you," he added.

I shifted on my feet and sighed, "I came here looking for Kasumi Nakano," I said, stating my mission clearly.

"Really?" he said quickly, voice still soft, "I'm impressed. Few would brave the kind of journey you've had, for the sake of someone else," I flicked my brows and nodded. Yeah, tell me about it.

"Kasumi is here. She's safe and unharmed... and you're free to see her if you'd like." I felt a strange relief, knowing I had accomplished what I had set out to do, all those days ago. But it was only the beginning still. I didn't know if I could ever convince a young girl to change her mind. "Before you do though," the old synth spoke again, "Tell me, do you think, Kasumi is a synth?" he said, cryptically. I glanced at Danse and back to the old synth, confused by why it mattered at all.

"Why are you asking me?" I said, confused.

"Because she came here with that question. And the answer, changes every part of her world. None of us take this transition lightly. She's facing the possibility, that her entire life, is a lie," he explained, holding his hands out, "That someone stripped her very identity from her and made her into something, she isn't. I want you to understand that, before you see her," he said gently. My gaze fell to Danse, who seemed to be one moment from falling into a trance. I thought of how he must have felt, how it must have been to realize those very same things the old synth had spoken of. If my guilt had been any stronger, I might have toppled over and died right there. "She has a chance, to live here, as a synth. Not hiding. Not pretending to be something else," he said, almost disgusted by the very idea. I could feel a ripple of anxiousness as I noticed the physical loathing on Danse's face. I was acutely aware of the grip he had on his rifle, the spark of indignation inside those placid, rusty pools. I regretted allowing him to come with me.

"I have, one more question. If, you'll indulge me" the old synth added. I fixed my gaze on him. "You're here for Kasumi. But I suspect there might be another reason you came to us. Tell me... are you a synth?" Before Danse could shoot the old synth's head clear off his shoulders, I answered very quickly.

"I'm a human being, not a synth," I replied, my voice taunt.

"Are you sure?" he countered, his voice understanding, but challenging. "I don't mean to question you - but what is the first memory you have?" My mind stumbled for a moment, trying to find that first, solid memory. I caught the shifting of Danse's frame out of the corner of my eye and laid a hand on his arm before he made a decision the both of us would regret.

"I- I was very young," I quickly said. I analyzed it for a moment and sighed, "My mother was sick," I said, feeling ashamed. I always felt ashamed when it came to her. "Some men had come to take her away." I could feel the pain there inside of that schism, still raw, even all those years later. How do you consolidate an agony from decades ago? Before you even knew what coping was. "I was hiding under my bed and I was crying," I finished, resentful for even having to dig that memory out from its proper place. Danse's withering scowl fell to me, I could feel it soften. I didn't tell him much of my past, but our time had been so limited and the aspect of a future had sealed off all those old cuts and bruises.

"Isn't it funny how a memory can feel like a whole different reality. People, places, even sounds and colors can change. Or someone else has changed them," I wrinkled up my nose at him. I was not a synth. I knew it to be impossible. There was just, that feeling, deep inside of me, that everything I knew, everything I felt, was real and organic. Something I knew now, Danse might not be familiar with. "But I promise, you will be accepted here, whatever you decide is true for yourself," he finished.

"Thank you," I answered curtly. I was not going to argue with him, or pick a fight. I was too tired, too anxious, for any other possibility besides finding Kasumi and finishing what I had started.

The old synth told me where I could find her and welcomed us to the grounds, to explore as we wished. I was more than happy to removed Danse from his presence and avoid any conflict. I quickly left the open, domed room, with my stubborn companion in tow.

As we descended a stairway to the underbelly of the building, I paused on the landing. "Are you okay?" I asked him softly. He nodded firmly, unwilling to entertain me with a single thought. But I knew he was angry, bothered, pained. I took a moment to steady myself and started downwards again. Danse was not the only one bothered by the conversation that had taken place. It left me feeling empty, guilty and resentful. In the world before the bombs, no one questioned their humanity. It was just simple. It was black and white. The stark reality was, you didn't know who you were in this new world. Human, synth, good, evil - and if you dwelt too much on it, you were left feeling like a lunatic. So we all walked around in this haze. I guess, in a way, we were all empty.

As we reached the bottom of several flights of stairs, we were met with another door. I pulled it open and wandered inside. It was warm inside, the hum of machinery almost deafening. As we slowly walked around the various rooms and alcoves, we found Kasumi. She was knelt beside a machine, her hands busily tinkering away with something. She was talking to herself, completely unaware of our presence. I could recall her room I had picked over, in the Commonwealth. Radios, wiring, circuit boards, all manner of technology. Her passion, it was safe to assume.

"Kasumi?" I said softly, giving her space. She stood to her feet and stuck her hand inside the machine beside her.

"Sorry, I'm right in the middle of something," she said impatiently. I cleared my throat.

"I'm a detective, I was hired to find you." My words were gentle, though my face was much the opposite. I had that feeling, that I was working towards an outcome that would never be. She turned to look at us, confusion etched into the patterns of her face.

"A what? You came... all this way, for... me?" she breathed in disbelief.

"You left your parents without saying a word. They're worried sick about you."

She sighed, "Look, my pare- those people, that were taking care of me, they wouldn't want me back. Not if they knew the truth," her voice sounded unsteady.

"What do you mean?" I tried to sound compassionate, to understand her train of thought.

"I'm not their daughter. I'm a synth" she sighed, "I thought if I just left it would be easier for them," she said, a chord of sadness in her voice. "How would that conversation have gone anyway? I've been lying to you this whole time? Your real daughter is dead and I've replaced her?"

I gave a soft huff and took a small step towards her, "You haven't replaced anyone. They're sill your parents."

"I... I really wish that was true," her eyes were glossed over, "If I wasn't a synth, things would be so much simpler," her voice trailed off for a moment, "Acadia isn't what I thought it was. There's more going on here than just the refuge. But I can't leave until I've gotten to the bottom of it. I've been running long enough," she scowled. Danse sighed inwardly from behind me, obviously irritated by the whole ordeal.

"What kind of problem is there in Acadia?" I asked, confused.

"It's a long story, but- hey wait," her eyes flashed and she motioned to me, "You find things, that's what you do, right?" I rubbed the nape of my neck with my hands and nodded slowly. Incorrect. I was just as lost as anything out there. "What if I told you there was a secret? On this island. Much more important than a lost girl?"

"What are you talking about?" I said, unable to mask the frustration in my voice.

"Where to begin," she exhaled. "You saw all those computers that DiMa's hooked up to right?" I nodded, figuring she meant the old synth who ran the place. "They hold his memories, or... offload data to his brain. Or maybe some combination of both?" she said, unsure. "Well, I was asked to do some repairs on them and," she paused, looking a little embarrassed, "I got curious. There's like, a century's worth of life experiences in there. And... that's when I see it," she stretched out a hand, "Data modules DiMa has been making," she said. It sounded all so dull and uninteresting. But the least I could do was humor her. "One, was the fog taking over Far Harbor," she said quickly. Danse shifted and moved to stand next to me. "Another, was a nuclear detonation on the island. Plus - death counts. What if DiMa is so open and welcoming to us because he's actually hiding something? Like a plan to wipe out the rest of the island?"

"We need to get to the bottom of this," Danse said gruffly. "If DiMa is planning to wipe out all those innocent people, we need to know," he said, as if the old, heroic solider in him had been awakened. I nodded slowly in agreement.

"We'll help if we can," I said, glancing to Danse, "But we need more information than that," I added, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I know," she said quickly, "I've been working on that, but I haven't had much luck. I keep seeing DiMa and the co-founders, Faraday and Chase - heading to the lab on the other end of the hall. Then, they come out later, looking like they've been arguing. There is actually a storage space close to there. It would be the perfect spot to hide and eavesdrop." She looked frightened, perhaps from seeing our reaction to her secret. I had no ties to the Harbor myself, but the idea of leaving all those innocents, children, families, to the threat of nuclear destruction, or creatures in the fog - I could never live with myself.

We decided I would eavesdrop on one of DiMa's meetings. There was also a terminal I could hack into, but I was less than good with those things. Of course, I was met with opposition from Danse, who insisted he should be the one to take the risk. But he could hardly move about unnoticed. I was smaller, stealthier and I had DiMa's trust. Ultimately, we both agreed to eavesdrop. From there, we could figure out why DiMa had scenarios of death and destruction in his memories.

The storage room was locked, as Kasumi had said. But Danse, as it turned out, was pretty handy with bobby pins. As we nonchalantly stood outside of the storage room, I relentlessly badgered him.

"So now you're no better than a common thief," I said simply, crossing my arms and standing guard. He sighed and tinkered with the lock. I relished in the fact that usually, he would be the one in my position. For once, I got to be the disapproving nanny. It was altogether strange and amusing.

"Just, keep your eyes peeled," he said tersely. I smiled triumphantly.

"Is this a newly acquired skill,?" I teased.

"No," he replied flatly. Finally, I could hear the click of the locking mechanism. He opened the door and motioned for me to go inside. As I crept into the dusty room, he gave me a cautious glare. "Try to be quiet for once," he sighed hoarsely. I rolled my eyes at him and gave him a dismissive wave of my hand.

I quietly sneaked to a pile of dusty crates, finding a seat among them. Danse crouched behind a wall, fingering the trigger guard of his rifle. We remained quiet, our ears pricked, waiting for the sounds of footsteps. A moment or two passed before I could detect any movement. I saw a woman's figure slowly glide into the dark lab, followed by a man in lab coat and finally, DiMa. I crouched even lower, being sure to keep my face from in front of the large, grimy window.

I could hear their muffled voices, hot and tense, as they argued. It became clear to me, they were arguing over what do with the Children of Atom and Far Harbor. DiMa insisted on a conflict free resolution. But the other two founders, seemed less inclined to agree it was possible. As it turned out, not only had DiMa supplied the Harbormen with the "fog condensers" as they called them, but gave the Children of Atom an old submarine to live in. A submarine housing all of DiMa's old memory banks. According to the old synth, the banks could contain information that would lead to their destruction. The Children of Atom, once allies with Acadia, had changed their views on the synths - lead by a new deluded and megalomaniac priest, called Tektus. DiMa's projections were dim. They discussed breaking in, hacking into the memories and downloading them. But the Children were well acquainted with all three of them. Their mere presence would evoke an all-out war.

But the hacking of these, memory banks, was not a normal task. It was like entering a version of DiMa's mental network. It would sense anyone trying to break in, as an intruder, and it wouldn't be easy. Their conversation lasted a few moments more, before they left, one after the other. Finally, as their footsteps faded out of ear shot, I shifted around and looked at Danse. He merely shook his head.

"Those lunatics have been sitting on the potential to wipe out an entire island this whole time" he said in a hushed tone, in complete disbelief. I studied the floor for a moment. "We have to do something." I knew that look on his face. His version of doing something was destroying the entire submarine and killing every last rad-eating crazy that lived there. I wasn't exactly fond of them, but I didn't harbor the same end-all attitude he did. I mean, we're talking about the synth that would wipe out every synth in existence without a second thought here people.

"What if I went in there and downloaded all those memories?" I said excitedly. I was up for another suicide mission. Danse scowled at me. I shrugged and dusted my hands off. "It's the only way this ends without bloodshed," I said firmly. I stood up and headed towards the door. Danse was on my heels, grabbing my elbow.

"That is not a good idea," he said angrily. I rolled my eyes to the side. "We don't know just how far this Tektus is willing to go, to spread that fog."

"I can handle myself," I said in earnest. He gave me a deadpan look. "Despite what you might think, I'm not this fragile porcelain doll that you need to keep on the shelf," I breathed with a chord of annoyance. Before he could argue with me anymore, I slipped out the door and left him standing there, his mouth mid-sentence. I quickly navigated my way to the stairs. As I grabbed the handrail, I could hear the storage room door open loudly. I took the steps two at a time. I fleeted a glance over my shoulder. I could see him following in hot pursuit, a mere single flight below me. I picked up my pace as I passed someone heading down. I smiled, gave a friendly nod and shot out of the top doorway with as much speed as I could - without attracting any attention.

As I approached the circular room filled with wires and screens, I spotted DiMa, in a chair of some kind. He seemed to be hooked into it, like he was just a complex machine like every other piece of equipment in the room. "Hey, DiMa," I called loudly, quickly, before my cohort could silence me. The old synth raised his gaze to me and stood up slowly. The chair folded inward behind him.

"Yes, what is it?" he said softly, almost tiredly.

"I know you left some of your old memories behind in an old submarine base. That you're worried the Children of Atom will get to them," he said hoarsely, trying to calm my rapid breathing. I slowly turned to find Danse standing at the threshold of the room. His eyes were narrow slits in his head. If I listened hard enough, I might have heard a loud buzzing coming from him. He was drilling holes into my head with those eyes. I turned my attention back to DiMa.

"You've been busy," he said simply, as if nothing could surprise him anymore. "I was hoping to were taking your time and learning more about us. Huh," he said, seemingly a bit more annoyed then, "I suppose you have. Maybe this is an opportunity for both of us," he added. It was exactly what I wanted to hear. "I can't send any of my people without risks... but you... you're new to the island," he said. I could see the plan formulating in his head.

"Alright, I'm listening," I said, as if the same thought hadn't already passed through my own head.

"Before I continue, how much do you know?" he said slowly.

"Everything I need to," I quipped.

"Then, my plan is simple. Pose as a recruit. Infiltrate the Children of Atom." Suddenly Danse was crossing the room and placing himself between the two of us.

"You would put her in danger?" he accused, his voice was heavy, angry. I chimed in, quickly, trying to quell the incoming storm.

"It's my choice," I snapped. DiMa just nodded to me in agreement.

"Do you have any idea the risks involved?" Danse practically barked at us, "Assuming they buy your charade, you do get in, how do you know their initiation isn't making you bathe in an old pool of pure radiation? You'd come out of there without a face," he seethed. I shrugged.

"I'm not overly fond of it anyway," I said simply. He grabbed my wrist and towed me to the side of the room, away from the old synth.

"If they found out you were a spy for Acadia, they might not just kill you. There are some things worse than death," he murmured hotly. I pulled my wrist away from him and huffed.

"I've already made my decision." I had resolve. The risks mattered very little to me. They could be no worse than what I had encountered before. "It's not any more dangerous than, breaking into the Institute, for example," I said, pushing my brows together. He growled at me.

"That was different," he said hotly.

"It's not," I disagreed, pushing by him. He took a rapid step to loom over me.

"I care about you," he said harshly, almost painfully. It was almost awkward coming from him. I didn't turn to look at him, or move from the spot.

"Can you, Danse?" I said softly. It wasn't meant to be mean, or hurtful. It was a question I thought I knew the answer to, but I was no longer sure of. There was a time, when I knew it to be true and nothing could change my mind. But my time with him now, the last two days, the things DiMa had said - it caused a rift in how I viewed that possibility. It seemed like he cared, but was it actually him - or a piece that was planted inside? It seemed like the parts of him I knew, were slowly fading away. As if he resented what he knew of himself so much, that he was transforming into an unfeeling, hollow machine.

He let me leave, standing there quietly. I felt the soft tendrils of guilt coiling up in my stomach. I didn't even know if it were possible for the two of us to be near without causing one another pain. Intentionally or not.

I approached DiMa and gave him a firm nod. "Let's do this fucking thing," I said with a smile. He just mused at my words.

DiMa gave me any information that was pertinent to my objective. I found the supplies I needed for the journey; water, stims, Rad-X and Radaway. I spent some time, talking to a person - or synth I guess - who could repair my gun. Everything was given to me free of charge, because I was willing to help them. I stopped by the rooms down below to speak with Kasumi and discuss what I had learned. She was ecstatic. I could not blame her. If I'd been her age, I might find the whole ordeal exciting and fantasy-like. But to me, it was one more bullet point on my list of stupid stunts.

During all of my preparation, Danse said very little to me. I couldn't hold it against him. Though I longed to know what he was thinking. I always did. I couldn't gauge what we were to one another. Or if we could ever really be anything but painful memories, constantly intertwined in that web some people call destiny. The only thing sure to me, was that I felt alone.

I stood at the fortification guarding Acadia. The sun was slowly dropping in the horizon, as distant emeralds and swaths of yellow spiraled in the sky. I took in a deep, faltering breath and slid my shotgun from its leather holster. Danse stood behind me, a feet away. "Are you going back to the Harbor?" I said blankly, watching as that distant, hazy kaleidoscope of noxious colors darkened.

"Yes," he said flatly. I nodded slowly.

"I'm sure we'll meet again," I said softly, holding back the ache in my throat. I gave my head another firm nod and started down the faded road.

"Fox," Danse rasped. I paused and looked over my shoulder at him, "Be careful," he said gently, his eyes seemed to glimmer then, slight and fleeting. I gave him a weak smile and pointed at him.

"You know me," I teased and started forward once more. The cracked pavement leading me on, like a depressing yellow brick road.

I'd walked away from him a hundred times before. But this seemed more... solid. Like closing the cover of a book.