The Portia campaign scrambles to figure out next steps after a massive setback. There. I'm going for a walk.

But…

But what?

It's so short. And... Our reassignment is soon. Maybe we should talk.

We should get used to spending time away from each other again, T. Maybe it'll be a relief. To get some space.

You don't mean that-- He's gone. Again. I just... I can feel his anger in my throat like acid bile, biting and burning to the touch. His absence chills like a sunless moon. Echoes like a carillon without its player. And without him... This office is so cold, so stark. The hallways grey and winding and lifeless. I've become so much more direct with my thoughts, under his influence, and I fear I may spiral again into... poetic borderline incomprehensibility. I fear I will lose my friend. But what can I do? I just... I don't want to be alone again.