Nazarin limps over and begins to untie me. His face isn’t as swollen as it was in the dream world, but it’s livid with bruises. Tracks of blood have dried from his nose, his ears and even the corner of his eyes. The whites of those eyes are red with broken capillaries, but his gaze is clear.

“Nazarin,” I whisper.

He leans close to take the strap off my chest. “I never told you my real name, did I?”

“No.”

“It’s Aziz. Aziz Keskin.”

“Aziz,” I echo, tasting the name on my tongue. He smiles at me. I smile back. After all that has happened, we’re able to smile at each other. He helps me sit up. I peel the electrodes off and throw them away, then lean against him, my head spinning. My ankle hurts. He wraps his arms around me, holding me close. I can feel his heartbeat. We both smell of sweat and blood and fear.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I say.

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

We stand, leaning on each other. We look down at the fallen King of the Ratel.

“Should we kill him?” I ask. I feel nothing at the prospect of it. I already killed him off, bit by bit. Now, it would be more or less getting rid of the shell.

“I want to. I really want to.” He turns from Ensi. “Let’s not cross that line. I think we’ve avenged enough today.”

We start to hobble toward the door. Our guns are hidden in a cupboard, and Nazarin passes me one. We keep them in our hands, at the ready. My tongue keeps niggling at the molar, now missing its strip and the virus. My mouth tastes of iron.

Nazarin opens the door, darting his head out and back, gun held up by his ear. “It’s clear.”

We leave that awful room behind, staggering against the walls. We don’t seem to have any lasting damage, but my brain still feels … confused. Senses still don’t seem anchored to this plane of reality. My brain is still recording, but I don’t turn it off yet, despite the headache. I guess I can handle it better than Kim’s subjects. I swear, the white of the walls tastes like lemons. The squeak of our shoes against the floor feels like fear. I can’t trust what I see. Only Nazarin feels real. Aziz.