[ There was an argument to be made as to whether or not he really even truly understood platitudes. His life was broken into pieces, before and afters. In one before, he had been a tool that no one wasted their time or care on. In another after he was loved and accepted by holograms, had learned his civilities through a complex lie meant to keep him quiet until the time was right to destroy him completely. It makes him question himself, always. Maybe, in its own way, this cold hellhole made the choices easy for him. The happy times in Twilight Town didn't apply, put them out of your head. ]

The wind was the worst part, I guess. [ It was hard to quantify what was the worst about being here. The cold, the hunger, the loneliness? It was all the worst. ] It just bites at you and you can't see anything, so by the time I thought I should go back I didn't know which way anymore.

[ It was strange to him how a landscape swathed in black or in white could both be so equally disorienting when they were utter opposites. ]