At long last, then final door remained. The Boss felt ill. He was now fully aware of the dream he was trapped in, but there was nothing he could do about it. Hesitantly, he reached out and touched the doorknob, and his mind immediately flooded with memories of his life.

They say when you're about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. It was his time.

No. He couldn't die. This was simply how it was to be. He was not just Magnus. The Boss. He was the infection. He was the symbiotic signal. The truth pathogen. The word virus.

Creation.

Something was speaking, arguing against this fact. His memories were not complete? This wasn't poss--

He soon became aware once more. The Boss looked around, seeing only vines.He quickly realized he was seeing without eyes. There was no body to control. And yet... here he was. Vines quickly coalesce to rectify it. He was far from being human... but it was still something. It felt strange, but he had form. Barely. Somewhere around here had to be his body. His real one.

Little by little, he pushed aside the vines. What he found was something he did not expect.

It was not his body that the vines were beginning to consume. But something else. No. Someone else. The one who had tried to save him. He had gotten himself into this mess for him. Shaking his head slowly, the Boss decided to do what he could. He was not one who let debts go unpaid. After looking down at one hand, he waved it, dismissing the vines from the stranger's body. Carefully, he picked him up with relative ease, then began to carry him off. Away from the heart of thorns and towards safety.

It was beginning to get difficult to do so, as he was starting to unravel the further he went. But he was determined to get this much right. Slowly, but eventually, he managed to reach the entrance of the buildings. Shadowed forms awaited outside. They were not tainted. Not infected. He set his would-be savior down, and watched as the shadows took him away.

He had done his part.

And yet... he was not quite finished.