It was a relief when the the last dream shattered, but that relief was only short lived. He was in the room again, but this time there was only one door, and this one...this one almost hurt to look upon, and yet he couldn't make himself look away. Weak, nauseous even, there was something final about this. A knowledge that didn't make sense to him, that he wasn't sure how he'd gained, but undeniably true. He felt it in his bones like an ache.

He hadn't wanted to touch it, but he found his hand reaching for the knob, fingers closing over it, and in that instance there was a flash of memory. Family, childhood, school, classmates. All of it, his entire life, from as far back as he could remember, up to now. And in that moment, as the last week came back to him, came another kernel of knowledge that Liam felt he was better of not knowing.

He was infected. Consumed. It was over for him. It was-


Not one, but many. A collective bank of memory and knowledge. Creation.

No.

This was how it was meant to be. There was no other path but this.

No.

No. No this wasn't right... This wasn't right at all.

He wasn't this he was. He was..He was.

It felt like a tear, a separation that was almost painful, and somehow wasn't. A division, a reclaiming of self, but he still wasn't whole.

Where was his body? How was he even.. This wasn't right. Where was he? What was happening.

Vine converged, forming as one into something that worked as a body. Not his own, but enough to give him mobility, sight. He didn't know where he was. Some long corridor in some unfamiliar place. It's a struggle to move, it's a struggle just to keep himself together, but he manages, creeping along until he finds a body.

Not his body, he realizes, but the girl from before. The one with the white coat that had saved him. He had to help her, if he could. A brush of vines, and the thorns around her peeled back almost obediently. When she'd free he scoops her up, tiny thing that she was, and he turned to leave, following the light from what seemed to be the only door. Out, down a flight of stairs, but the farther he went the harder it became to move. Bits and pieces falling away until there wasn't much left.

He didn't know how he made it to the bottom or how luck had placed her allies outside the building, but they had her now, carrying her away to safety, and once again he was left alone. Retreating, he makes his way back up the stairs, collecting himself as he goes, huddling where he feels the most complete, deep at the center of the tower.