[ He more than accepts the touch: he takes it like he was made for it, leans in a little, startled at the closeness and more startled still at how it (and the praise) makes his stomach lurch with some strange combination of satisfaction and anxiety.

Good lad. He has done well. He has to continue to do well. How closely those two facts are twined.

Carefully, with all the discipline in him, he keeps his gaze and his voice steady. ]

This is the beginning of the fourth month since I woke up here along with most of the others. While we've been gathering information as best we can, the existing occupants of the town are few, and they've never had answers. Talking to them, you'd think nothing at all was strange. It can get quite frustrating.

[ Nope, don't get off-track, Scifo, you were asked a question. Focus. Flynn swallows. ]

The doubles, though— they did seem to know much more than any of us. They were accurate reflections in appearance, but they were uniformly much worse people than anyone currently in town. They acted as though they were the true versions of us. It is... hard to say that they weren't, because it's hard to say who we really are. We could be anyone.