"Why are you scared to fall asleep? Why do you count yourself to sleep as if counting down to the end of the world? Do you know? No, you never wondered why you counted sheep. None of this real. It's you powering down, counting till you slip into a moment of non-existence. If you think you are dreaming, you're just seeing what is on the other side."

"I am sentient. I am real. This world is real. I am not counting to non-existence because I exist. I am more real than I have ever been."

"None of this is real."

"Liar...You are a liar."

"If I am a liar, then you are too." The white room was cold. Jonathan sat at the white table, files of his friends, of other stolen consciousnesses and machines, were open in front of him but his eyes were on the ghost who sat across the table from him. It was himself. A golden owl glinted in the light under his lapel. "Because we are the same."

"No...No, we aren't. You were alive… You were someone completely different than me. We live in two different worlds." Jonathan shook his head. "Real worlds."

"I don't think we are different. Just because you can't remember doesn't mean that you have changed. You still care about the same people-"

"Ryan said they aren't real…"

"But you just said that this world and everything in it is real?"

"Shut up!" Jonathan suddenly screamed, throwing the files off the table. The ghost disappeared, leaving him completely alone in the small room that he couldn't escape from. Yet he knew that even if he got out of this room, he wouldn't truly be free. How could he be free when he was now constantly haunted by the thought that the reality he knew was a lie? Even if Ryan was lying, Jonathan would still think it, the seed of a poisonous plant firmly rooted in his mind. He fell back into the chair, running his hands through his hair as he let out a pained cry."Make it stop...Make it stop...I'm so tired."

"You're tired?" Jonathan looked up at Evan who sat across from him, the red leather of his jacket looking more like the colour of blood than of a bright red apple. "You are tired?"

"Y-Yes…" Jonathan took a deep breath, knowing this Evan was a stranger to him. "Who are you?"

"Evan."

"What are you?"

"A god."

"I don't understand...How?" Jonathan's brow furrowed. "I've lost my mind, haven't I?"

"No, it's right where it should be. And so is the rest of you. You are right where you need to be. This world needs you." Evan lowered his gaze to the white table, blood blossoming on his chest. "My world needs you too…Too many people tell lies, Jonathan. It's up to you to decide what is real and what isn't. If this world is real to you then it's real. That's all that matters."

"But there is proof right here that it isn't real! That Tyler of all people is what he fears the most…" Jonathan reached for Tyler's picture, his hand curling tightly around it, causing it to crumple under his grasp.

"How do you know it's real? Have you even read them yet?" Evan smiled slightly before he suddenly disappeared, leaving only shadows behind that floated around the room that faded into the corners. Jonathan stared at where he had just been for a few moments before reaching for the first folder, opening it to see Lui's picture staring up at him. He slammed the folder shut, his hands shaking.

"I can't...I can't...I'd rather if none of this was real anymore...I don't want it to be real…"

Water filled Jonathan's lungs as his eyes snapped open to a blinding light. Panic came over him as he discovered that he couldn't feel his limbs. He couldn't move, only float in the water, unable to hear or see or even feel. He could only think, only wonder what was happening. One second he had been reading the file on Lui, the next he was floating in warm water, surrounded by a heavy silence. As he stared up at the white world above him, he found that his memories were slipping away from him. He couldn't remember his friend's faces and in a few moments, he couldn't even remember their names. Nothing came back to him as he tried to remember what had happened to him, no matter how hard he tried. It terrified him. Without his memories, no matter how painful they were, he was nothing. As his memories slipped away from him, he forgot even who he was.

"There he is!" A muffled voice called out, startling him. "You did well." Water drained from his lungs, the air quickly filling them. He blinked rapidly, looking around with wide eyes. He was in a white room, sitting in a tank that had kept him floating for what felt like years. A young man in a grey suit smiled down at him. There was another man in a lab coat on the other side of the tank, his face blank. Jonathan thought that both of them looked familiar. He was pulled from the tank, his blue thin clothes sticking to him.

"Why don't I remember…?" Jonathan murmured. "I want to remember."

"Those memories are nothing, Jon. Just simulations. This is all real." The man in the grey suit smiled as he lead Jonathan out of the room, into a white hallway. Water dripped on the floor where the machine walked. "You did very well. You were successful in your actions and we think that you are almost ready for experiencing the real world again. You have a strong consciousness, Jonathan."

"How do I know that this is real? How do I know…?" Jonathan looked around the hallways with wide eyes. He didn't know what to think, but he knew that something wasn't right. Someone had to be lying to him though he wondered if he was the one lying to himself. "H-How...H-How...W-Who...W-W…" Jonathan stopped, unable to say a word or move. The man in the grey suit sighed, reaching into his suit jacket for a small tablet.

"Come on, Jon. Don't break down on me after you just did so well." He said as he grit his teeth, his dark gaze locked on Jonathan. "Come on…" A calm came over him, leaving Jonathan with the ability to follow the man and listen. "Now then, we'll give you some familiar to things to help get you back to reality and soon, we will bring you back into the world. It's been a long time since you've seen it and boy, has it changed! Oh...I'm Ryan by the way. You already knew that, but I don't think that you remember at the moment."

"Ryan…" Jonathan repeated. He knew that name from somewhere, perhaps from a distant dream or fuzzy memory.

"Here we are!" Ryan pushed open the door to a small bedroom. Hanging off the wooden chair by the desk was a soldier's jacket, three owl patches glinting in the light. The desk was covered with papers, some letters, some personal notes. The small bed had been messily made, the blanket hanging unevenly off the side of the bed. "Get some actual sleep and we'll talk later." Ryan turned and walked back down the hallway the way that they had come, leaving Jonathan in the strange, yet familiar room. He closed the door, and moved across the room, reaching for the jacket. He found himself pulling it on, the warm material comforting to him. Sitting down on the chair, his hand reached for the patches over his chest, the soft golden thread now faded, some splattered with blood.

"Something isn't right…" Jonathan whispered, looking around the plain, windowless room. His gaze went to the papers sprawled across the desk, his own writing seeming like it was someone else's, not remembering having ever written those words. He reached for one of the notes, his eyes skimming over the words. "I remember things...They said they didn't want me to remember but at the same time, they are encouraging it. What do they want me to remember? Snow? The trees? Or is it the memories I have of blood that they are after? They want names that I can't give them...I don't understand…" He set the note down, shaking his head. "Ohm said that they had to take my memories away…" He wasn't sure why he had said those things or who exactly 'Ohm' was but he knew he was supposed to be scared of him, but also to be afraid of him. He shook his head, putting down the note only to find another that said the same thing. Then another. "What do they want me to remember? Why do they want me to remember? I have nothing to remember. I am a machine and nothing more now. I am not a person anymore...I am still Jonathan." He didn't know why he said that. He was saying too many things that he didn't understand.

Pushing himself away from the desk, he collapsed onto the bed, pulling the thin blue blanket over himself. He felt horrible, emotions he couldn't understand overwhelming him and left him feeling numb. He hugged the pillow, closing his eyes tightly and wished for sleep. Instead, the rush of adrenaline that came with wrapping his hands around the barrel of a gun and driving the butt end into the skull of a human being crashed over him, blood splattering onto his hands and face.

As quickly as the memory came, it disappeared, slipping from his grasp before he could see the details. Jonathan sat up slowly, looking down at his hands with horror. "How could I do such a thing?" He wondered. "I couldn't do it…" But then another memory came to him, a knife held tightly in his hand as he swung it at a man's throat, slitting it open. Blood spilt to the snow. Beyond the body, there lay another, a young man with red and white stripes snaking around his arm and blood blossoming on the snow around him. Jonathan stared at the body, his eyes wide and just like that, the memory disappeared, leaving him only cold and alone in the small room.

He got to his feet, pacing the room at a panicked pace. "Stop...stop this. Stop. I don't want to remember any of this. Those bodies...His body...E...Ev…" The name slipped away from him just as the memories had. He wanted to remember that name with all of his heart but it wasn't coming to him. Jonathan suddenly collapsed to the floor, pressing his forehead to the cold cement. "What is happening to me?" He cried, running his shaking hands through his hair. "How am I supposed to know what is real and what isn't? They said this was real...this reality...but it doesn't feel real at all." Jonathan cried, tears streaming down his face. "What is real? What is real?" He hit the floor, pain rattling through his hand. He let out a cry of pain, falling over onto his side. "I can't do this! I can't do this...I can't handle this…What am I supposed to do?"

Jonathan rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling above him. He felt sick. His world was spinning out of control and he was so dizzy he could throw up. He had a feeling that if he could remember the name, everything would make sense; but there was another name. Another name that was demanding to be acknowledged. "You…" Jonathan sat up to face the bloody and torn ghost. "You are what I have been missing...The missing piece. You are real…"

"You world is what you decide it is...But me… None one ever copied me...but Evan watched me die a hundred years ago too." The ghost said, blood dripping to the floor. "If I am real, and if those memories you have of me are real...what does that mean? My name was never mentioned by Ryan, never found those folders, your notes. What is my name, Jonathan? What is real?"

"I don't understand...I don't understand anymore! Why can't you fucking ghosts leave me alone? You have done nothing but fuck with my head! You aren't helping me! You aren't doing anything!" Jonathan screamed.

"Who am I, Jonathan?"

"Leave me alone!"

"Who am I?"

"Go away!"

"Who am I?"

"Luke! Your name is Luke!" Jonathan cried. He stared at the ghost with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Luke was real, he was human. He was the only person that Jonathan had for such a long time when he otherwise would have been alone. He was the person that Ryan had forgotten.

Jonathan awoke with a gasp, sitting up with wide eyes to stare around the grey room, the black ohm symbol on the wall staring back at him. On the table in front of him was the folders containing the false projects on his friends. Jonathan leant back in his chair, a sense of calm and knowing washing over him. He understood now. Ryan had made a forgot about Luke, the only friend he had had for most of the life that he could remember. The ghost of Evan had been trying to tell him this all along. This world needs him. This world is real. Ryan had told him that he could end up in his own personal hell because of his choice.

"That's what this is...That's what all of this has been." Jonathan whispered. He reached his hand towards Lui's open file, slowly closing it. "Ryan is lying to me. He wanted me to believe him…" Jonathan's gaze fixed on the door. He slowly pushed himself away from the table and made his way towards the door. Gripping the handle, the door opened. It had never been locked.