Instantly, you have the sense that your body expands, then contracts, and then returns to normal, but now the way you sit in your skin feels different. You are you. And yet, not you. You are also Lori. You are Lori being André Timoteo not being himself.
You are in the dome, and also in another room, somewhere else, in the dark.
"Hello," Lori says. Your lips form the words, but it's someone else's voice you hear.
An echo. "Hello." Who's speaking? Is it you, or Lori? Does it matter?
Is there a difference?
"I've been looking for you."
"Yes. So have I."
"Why is it so dark in here?"
"Because I can't trust you yet."
"What do I have to do for you to trust me?"
"Tell me what's most important for you. Or don't. All you have to do is think it."