[ Matt's brief, flickering smile says we can agree to disagree about the linearity of time. But before even that much amusement can take a firm hold, Amos distracts him with a line of inquiry that feels not so much familiar as birthed straight from Matt's bones. Like hearing someone describe a nightmare you've never breathed a word about. His eyes lock on Amos' face. ]

I did, [ he admits, soft. ] Yeah. I felt all that. Everything ...

[ But exactly what he felt everything do, Matt's still not sure. Suspicions rear reptilian heads in his gut, snake after snake: Ragnarok, supernova, Kalki. In the end, there probably isn't a better word for it than death. ]

You're right. There's no reason we should have survived something like that. [ His lips give a humorless twitch. ] Which would make this, what? Hell's waiting room? Our last synapses firing off before the end?