"Well. It's also been a lot of time, for some of us. For most of us." It's been months since the portal pulled in a new person. "Might not be that we'd be going back to the moment we died. And we've got these." They tap the end of their pencil against their lantern's shutters. "Might not go back and die again. I guess maybe I could go somewhere else. I just. It feels like. This is home."

They've never had a home before. The bases in Russia, the bank vault, none of those were ever home, and the feeling of it is long gone from the time when they were a person.

"So it's a hard decision," they rally a little. "And I'm not good at decisions. So I make lists to try and help."