Sam’s meeting with Farris didn’t last much longer than the movie’s runtime, and they bade each other farewell soon after the credits started rolling. Sam left the room with a sigh of relief, mostly due to seeing that more than half of the other rooms were unoccupied but also due to finally being freed from Farris’ constant and varied array of questions. Apparently he expected Sam to be able to explain every little gag and reference made in the movie, and each one Sam did manage to understand and explain only opened the door for Farris to demand more information. Who knew movie watching could be such hard work?

  Opting to walk back to his room in silence, he spent most of the walk alternating between different topics of thought before being forced to settle on a rather overwhelming one. The topic of his thinking itself, stemming from the realization that the way he was thinking, was drastically different. Although, perhaps drastic wasn’t the right word. Because it wasn’t his thinking that had changed all that much (or at least so he believed and hoped) but rather the contents of his thinking, his thoughts themselves.

  Maybe that distinction was just empty sophistry. An attempt to assure himself that he was still the same person he saw himself as, even under all the new layers, and that it was just that some facets of his behavior were altered due to new experiences. But maybe he really was thinking differently, a different person altogether to go with the different thoughts. Still, he left himself enough benefit of the doubt to consider his distinction valid.

  Because as far as Sam was concerned, there was only one major difference between his current way of thinking and how he thought a physical year ago. The overall allocation of the different types of thoughts in his mind. Running back through the day, he couldn’t find one type of thought that he could categorize as completely new to him. They had all appeared in his mind, in some form or another, in the past. Anxiety, worry, stress, fear, plans for maximization of his free time, plans for best matching up to his ideal future. They were all there before. The difference, then, wasn’t due to anything new appearing, but rather due to the disappearing of an old fixture.

  He no longer imagined. He no longer passed the time, entertained and cheered himself by making up stories as he did for most of his life. And it wasn’t due to a lack of time. He had plenty of time for his thoughts to roam in all directions, after all, just like they did right now. But not once during the last two months did his thoughts veer towards any of his old stories, or towards making up new ones. Then again, it has been going on for way longer than two months, hasn’t it?

  His only coherent memories from his time in recovering in the hospital had him behaving in the same way: no longer able to use solely his mind to wander off to imagined corners and fictional avenues in order to escape the very real walls surrounding him. It wasn’t that his mind was stilted, preventing from embarking on that journey, it was simply that it didn’t want to. It was too concerned with the present, with reality, to find enjoyment in the making up the unreal. And the same thing was happening now. Not because he suddenly found himself in an environment that greatly resembled those which dotted his mindscape before and thus had no more need to imagine one. But simply because his mind wasn’t interested in anything that didn’t have any thing to do with the here and now.

  This line of thinking weighed heavily on his mind as he entered his room. After all, there was no clear solution. It wasn’t even clear what the problem even was. Was the disappearance of his need to imagine stories in order to pass the time a negative event? Did he lose anything by it? Some happiness, maybe, some pleasure that could be gained when otherwise there wasn’t any to be found. But if that was it, if that was all he lost, then the positive greatly outweighed the negatives, did they not? Without those sorts of thoughts being attractive to him, he had no reason to distract himself with them during times he wanted to focus on other endeavors. After all, how many times before did he lose the thread of his breathing while mediating because he wandered off to continue the story that occupied his mind during the shower prior?

  But of course, it wasn’t so simple to dismiss his change, even if it was a positive one (and Sam was the farthest thing from sure of that assumption). Good or bad, the way you thought, the way you occupied yourself while alone with only your mind available to interact with, defined who you were. And Sam had no doubt that if asked to define himself before the accident, the different tapestries his imagination weaved would have been a part of that definition. So what did that mean for who Sam was if that was no longer going to be the case going forward? If he no longer spent some nights almost too enthralled by the story running through his head to fall asleep? Never mind whether it was for the better. What happened to Sam when the picture he had of himself in his head no longer held true?

  Would he always keep clinging to who he was before? Never adapting to the person he had grown to be? A denial of both his reality and his self? Or would he simply not care? Complete the change in an instant, and become a new person, a different Sam. Acting with no consideration, no thought, to the Sam that came before? Maybe he would cease to be Sam altogether. Becoming someone else, the same person in all but that which made the Ship of Theseus an interesting dilemma.

  He sighed while sitting down in front of the desk. “At least I’m back to worrying about who I am. That’s progress, right? Not that it matters, of course. I am the only person this question matters to. And my opinion doesn’t count for jack shit with everything that’s at stake. It doesn’t matter who I am, who I will become, as long as I become who I need to, the person who can save the Web. Let me become a heartless automaton, let me lead a joyless life, let none of my dreams and aspirations come true. It doesn’t matter if that is what it takes to save everyone else.

  “Although… I am, unarguably, some version of myself in the eyes of other people. So I won’t be the only one to care if I turn into someone else, something else. The joy of having friends.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Eh. Fuck them. If I’m willing to sacrifice my happiness for the pursuit of the greater good, they should be willing to sacrifice… me? for the same goal.”

  He sighed again. “Good god, Sam. What an awful topic of thought you’ve landed yourself in. And all because you haven’t used your imagination to escape to far and distant lands. Fucking stupid… Stop trying to control your thoughts. They are what they are. Control your actions. That’s what matters. You aren’t what you think. How many times do I have to tell you that before you finally comprehend that?”

  He let out an exasperated grunt before flailing wildly, trying to release some pent up energy. “Stupid Farris, this is all his fault. Him and his talk of hobbies and dreams. What did that even have to do with the movie?! Fucking asshole, he’s the worst person in the Web at helping people with depression. Fuck! I don’t feel like doing anything. I don’t want to do anything restful anymore! Let’s study instead. Some math would get my mind off of being annoyed at other stuff. Focus my anger.”

  He reached for the textbook in question. He still had some problems to go through that he left unfinished last time he tried his hand at math a couple of days ago. His anger and annoyance lending him mental strength, he quickly finished the chapter. So he decided to continue on this course and opened up the next video lecture. Maybe he was lucky, and the topic for the day wasn’t that hard, or at least not that hard for Sam, or maybe some credit was due to his self and his abilities. But either way, he managed to finish both the lecture and the part of the textbook corresponding to it in one go; without taking a break.

  Of course, the moment he verified that his answer to the last question was correct, was the moment that all the wind left his sails. But that was par for the course; he expected nothing less. Just like resting in the macro sense that everyone around him kept harping on about, this feeling, this change, was resting in the micro sense, which he was more than happy to admit to requiring. You couldn’t keep going 100% all the time. Over three hours of uninterrupted work didn’t just excuse some rest, they demanded it.

  So first things first, he got up to go to the toilet. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw his full and untouched water bottle. So he finished it in one go, refilling and returning it to the table before going back to the bathroom. And wouldn’t you know it? That was a good five minutes of uninterrupted thinking time, all told. And not once did his mind turn to making up anything. It did turn back to thinking of the topic which got him to embark on the last three plus hours of studying, though, obviously.

  “What now?” he asked himself once he was back in his sit. There was plenty of time before he had to leave for dinner. Plenty of time to do anything he set his sights upon. Studying or training. Go back to actually playing a video game. Or work on shortening his videos backlog, either by finishing the stuff he had already seen before or finally watching a new show. He could even start a new book. Make a concentrated effort to extend the rationing of his current reading material.

  Or he could just do nothing. All manner of nothing, actually. He could continue with the nothing he was currently doing, just staring downwards at the desk with the light of the screen shining in his periphery vision. He could do nothing on the bed, slowly but surely slinking towards an unhealthy sleep. There was also the option of really driving home the point about him changing by going outside, finding some place in the sun to sit, and just doing nothing while staring at the scenery and breathing fresh air.

  He tossed and turned in his sit for a couple of minutes, unable to commit to any decision. He came close to going back to studying, wanting to creep up on finishing with his first “new” subject of study. But he decided against it eventually, figuring that combining studying about the history of the Sarechi Kingdom in the Web and watching the documentary was going to get confusing. Still, he made a promise to get back to the textbook in full force once he finished with the documentary.

  But thinking about finishing this project got him thinking of another project, the first one he got started on in this world, and the one that he would most likely never be able to finish. His playlist. He had made good progress during his first month after returning, until his tight schedule, but especially the smaller pool of songs to choose from slowed that progress to a crawl. In his second month on New Terra, he had probably only added less than a hundred songs to his playlist. In the last two weeks, none.

  Of course, it’s not like he suffered for it. His playlist, for all intents and purposes, was complete. Containing, as far as Sam could recall, even more songs than it did in its old form. Sure, there were definitely songs that he missed, their number hidden by new songs that he added. But based on his satisfaction while listening to all three of his playlists in the last month, they were mostly restored. But still, more effort could be direct towards remaking the playlist. Some artists who deserved a deeper inspection than the one he had originally given them, and new artists to consider as well. And one last brainstorm to make sure he didn’t forget anyone or anything.

  So he opened up a new tab, typed in “list of best songs,” and middle clicked on a bunch of links. Then he searched for “best musical artists,” clicked on way more links, and then thought twice of it, closed all the newly opened tabs, and added to both search queries the addendum of being pre-Integration. He wasn’t ready to partake in new items of entertainment just yet. He then went to work. With the music app open on one side of the screen, and the browser on the second, he kept switching between artists that he was already familiar with and featured on his playlist to artists that were less so, trying to spend a couple of minutes on each artist before moving to an artist from the other group. All in all, he put in fewer hours than he did with math, and less focus, taking a bunch of breaks throughout, and losing himself to his wandering thoughts and the music a couple of times (with still no accompanying fictional setting or scenario to be found). But he definitely had more fun.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Soon enough, his alarm ringed, so he got up with a stretch and got ready to leave for dinner. He met up with Sarah downstairs and they made their way to the mess hall, where Yvessa was already waiting for them. “Felix’s not here, yet?” Sarah asked.

  Yvessa shrugged. “He didn’t tell me anything he didn’t tell you guys. Should we head inside?”

  “It’s Saturday, so let’s wait a bit. I’ll send him a message.”

  Yvessa nodded and turned to Sam. “By the way, I managed to watch the one episode you had on me and I can once again confirm I had less fun watching by myself than watching with you.”

  “Hm…” Sam pursed his lips. “Then that definitely proves your hypothesis, I suppose. Because that episode was a banger.”

  “You guys watched that documentary together again?” Sarah asked.

  “Yeah, after you left for combat practice. Yvessa apparently enjoys it more when she has someone to commentate to.”

  “I wasn’t that bad,” Yvessa said.

  “You weren’t. Definitely less tiring than watching stuff with Farris.”

  “Didn’t have fun watching a movie with him?”

  “I had some fun, sure. Among other things. First and foremost, a headache.”

  “I have a name, you know,” Felix joked as he joined them.

  “Where were you?” Sarah asked.

  “My shower ran late.”

  “You mean you decided to shower for longer,” Yvessa said. “Don’t try to pin the blame on an inanimate object.”

  “No no, it really was the shower. It was supposed to meet me in my bathroom half an hour ago, but it got stuck in traffic.”

  Sarah gestured to Sam with her head and started heading into the mess hall, leaving Sam with the job of ushering the two to follow in her footsteps. “I don’t know why you bothered showering,” he told Felix. “You’re going to be surrounded by animals later and even though I’m sure they’re clean, I wouldn’t be comfortable bringing them with me to bed.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who don’t allow their pets on their bed.”

  “He’s not,” Sarah said. “He’s just one of those people who like a shower to be the last thing they do before bed.”

  “That’s not true,” Sam argued. “What I care about is that I won’t go to sleep dirty. So that just means not doing stuff that could get you dirty after your last shower of the day, like leaving home to go pet some animals or working out at home. I don’t have any problems with my own pets going wherever the fuck they want in my own home, but outside animals are a different story.”

  “You realize that’s ridiculous, right?” Felix asked. “Your own pets would probably be just as dirty as the animals from the restaurant, maybe even more, as the restaurant’s animals are cleaned daily.”

  Sam shrugged. “I will allow that this belief of mine harbors a certain amount of irrationality. But it falls under my want to not go to sleep dirty and me viewing the outside as dirtier than my own home. Both beliefs that I believe to be completely rational and reasonable.”

  “Rational, maybe. But reasonable? You’re just a neat freak.”

  “I agree with Sam,” Yvessa said. “It makes a lot of sense.”

  “Thanks for strengthening my argument.” Felix gave her a thumbs up.

  “Don’t be a jackass.” She gave him a middle finger in return after sitting down.

  “Hey. You’re the ones that insinuated I’m going to go to bed dirty. But I already showered twice today. I don’t see a reason to shower for a third time. And that’s more than reasonable.”

  “What if you fall into a puddle of mud?”

  “Why will I fall into a puddle of mud?”

  “Maybe I’ll push you.”

  “Oh great. So I’m guessing that also on the itinerary for the evening, is going out of our way to look for puddles of mud.”

  “We can always make one.”

  “Like you know how to make mud.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Eh. You got it. It was a shitty rich-people joke. Anyway, can we move on to a different topic like me regaling you guys with my sexual exploits?”

  “I thought you didn’t kiss and tell,” Sam said.

  “I don’t.” Felix winked.

  “Before that,” Sarah said, “how were your exams yesterday?”

  “Didn’t we already talk about that?”

  “No.”

  “Oh right, we didn’t meet at all after breakfast. How was your date with Maurice, by the way?”

  “Are you changing the topic on purpose or by accident?”

  “Accident, I promise. Exams went fine. Didn’t Yvessa tell you?”

  “I told them about mine,” Yvessa said.

  “Could’ve gone the extra mile.” Felix shook his head at her in mock disappointment. “And what about your medical whatever exam, Sarah?”

  “It was also fine,” Sarah said before retelling him in short about yesterday evening.

  “Man… I would’ve paid good money to see Maurice doing impression. I’m almost sorry I didn’t go.”

  “You weren’t invited,” Yvessa said.

  “I wasn’t?” Felix turned to Sarah.

  “I… eh, I don’t think so, no. I didn’t consider that, at least.”

  “Well, that’s fair. Anyway, back to me.”

  Yvessa sighed. “Do we really have to?”

  “Of course you do. One of your closest friends had a wonderful night, and morning, of passion and lovemaking. What kind of friends would you be if you didn’t let him tell you all about it?”

  “The kind of friends that don’t want to hear about other people’s, especially their friends’, sex life?” Sam said.

  “I don’t think those kinds of people, let alone friends, exist. Is it because I’m gay? It’s because I’m gay, isn’t it?”

  “No,” Sarah and Yvessa said in unison.

  “Yes,” Sam said.

  “Because…” Felix egged him on.

  “Ah… Alright, if I must. Because I’m insecure in my sexuality and don’t want your… adventures to awaken anything in me.”

  “Very good. Just for that little joke, I’m going to tell you everything in even more detail. So, my beau: he’s a little taller than me. Black hair and brown eyes. He’s twenty-two and studying to be a social worker. Great abs, although he could afford to work on his legs a bit more. But I have higher standards than most people, so I’m not going to dock him points for that. What else? Oh, he knows who you are, Sam. Doesn’t know who any of us, or even most Rulers, are, but he heard about you. Which means that you’ve really infiltrated into the public consciousness.”

  “Joy,” Sam intoned.

  “That’s two people I had sex with who asked me if I knew you. I gotta be honest with you, I would love for this to become a streak.”

  “I would love for your way of life to be outlawed so you wouldn’t be able to.”

  “Hm… you’re talking about casual sex, right?”

  “Yeah, I don’t feel comfortable beating the gay horse so much in one sitting.”

  “How would you even outlaw casual sex, though?”

  “I think the sort of place that would outlaw that would also be the sort of place that would outlaw gay sex,” Sarah said. “So that’s your answer.”

  “Like a theocracy?”

  “Or just a totalitarian regime. They’re not all that friendly to gay people as well. And they usually love the idea of the traditional family structure and people having a lot of kids.”

  “Well not always,” Sam said. “And while there has never been such a regime, I could envision a government that would outlaw casual sex while not outlawing homosexuality.”

  “How?” Felix asked.

  “Well, the first one would be a theocracy following a religion that doesn’t have a problem with homosexuality but does have a problem with pre-marital sex. Don’t know if such a religion exists, though, or can even organically come to be. The second one is even more far-fetched, although I’m sure there have been books, or at the very least fan-fictions written about such a setting. But I’m thinking of, in essence, a… gay totalitarian regime. You can insert sci-fi into this by saying that you can birth or grow new people, so you don’t need to fall back on the moral abomination that intercourse between the opposite sexes. But it could theoretically happen in a less ‘fictional’ setting. Sort of like Handmaid’s Tale, but the religious fanatics are gay extremists or whatever. And they disallow heterosexual sex that isn’t strictly regulated and ritualized for the purpose of procreating.”

  “What about bisexuals?”

  “A good question. It’s up for interpretation, I guess. Maybe as long as they ‘stay within their lane’ they’re treated as ‘normal’ citizens? Also depends on how straight people are treated in the setting. I haven’t given the prospect of a totalitarian homosexual regime much thought if you could believe it.”

  “And that really showcases your narrowminded bigotry.” Felix laughed. “But screw you guys. How did we get here from me talking about the night I had?”

  “It’s your fault,” Yvessa said. “Besides, we already heard all that we needed to hear about the night you had.”

  “Can I just say one last thing…? The sex was great. Thank you very much.”

  “When did you come back?” Sam asked.

  “When did I what?”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “I’ll give you credit for not going straight for that awful joke. But that’s it.”

  Felix snickered. “Around one. Had lunch and then combat practice. Even had a spar with Lin. He tried asking me about you off-handedly.”

  “What’d you tell him?”

  “Nothing in detail. Just that you were doing fine. Getting better. You know the deal.”

  “Thanks. Feels weird though… to have. I don’t know. Feels weird.”

  “Wait,” Yvessa said to Felix, “you said that you only showered twice today.”

  “Yeah? So?” He tilted his head.

  “So did you not shower after the combat practice? Or did you not shower… in the morning?”

  “Well well well… Look who’s interested in the intimate details of my sex life all of a sudden.”

  “You’ve already given us the pertaining details. I just want to know the details of your hygiene life so I’ll know whether to be disgusted or not.”

  “Disgusted? However why? So maybe I didn’t shower after the practice today, so what? I didn’t sweat all that much, and I left back to my room, all alone and by myself. Or is it maybe because of what happened this morning? Maybe you’re worried that I came back to the academy unwashed and stinking of sex?”

  “Did you?”

  “No, I showered before I left his apartment. Just didn’t feel like showering after practice and figured I might as well wait before we had to leave. But would it be so bad if it were the other case around? Hmm?”

  “Both are bad hygiene. That’s all I care about. And you wonder why I don’t want you traipsing in my room.”

  “Don’t try to act like it’s an anti-me measure. You don’t want anyone ‘traipsing’ in your room. Regardless of their hygiene regimen.”

  “That’s not true,” Sam said. “Just today she asked me whether I wanted to watch the documentary at her’s or mine’s. If there wasn’t an empty block of time between us hanging out and me leaving to meet with Farris, I would’ve probably taken her up on the offer, cause her dorm’s closer.”

  Sarah nodded. “And she invited me to study together a couple of times.”

  “Hm…” Felix was stumped. “Well I’ll be. Guess it is just me then.” He turned to Yvessa. “I assure you, madam, I will take this revelation to heart, and consider acting upon it in order to become a better human being.”

  “No you won’t,” she said.

  “You’re right. I probably won’t. So did you ever take her up on her offer, Sarah?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No. I didn’t want to impose on her. She doesn’t really need to study deshar history after all.”

  “Alright… so there is still a chance for me to be the first stranger to grace your room, Yvessa. Now it’s getting interesting. I have even more of an incentive to change my ways.”

  “You’re still not going to change them,” Yvessa said.

  “I’ll tell you what. To prove my sincerity. I’m going to take a shower after we come back.”

  Sam chuckled. “Without context, you’re making yourself sound way worse than you really are.”

  “Well look who’s suddenly on my side.”

  “I’m not on your side. I’m just saying that you sounded like some recluse who’s finally attempting to change themselves and are going to take a shower in order to reintegrate into society.”

  “Just trying to reintegrate myself back into Yvessa’s good graces and, eventually, her room.”

  “That sounds even worse.”

  “Everyone’s a critic. Which reminds me, I need you to help me pick a book to buy for my sister. I figured you’d know some good books about twentieth century history.”

  “You figured wrong. But I’ll help you pick one. Is she interested in American presidents?”

  “I think so, yeah.”

  “Alright. So that was easy. But be aware that it’s a long series.”

  “It’s fine. As long as I can get them on hardcover. The important thing is that she can put them on her bookshelf and look at them and remember her awesome big brother.”

  “Afraid I don’t have any book picks that will instill false memories in her head.”

  “Screw you.” Felix laughed. “I’m the best big brother ever.”