“Great. Back to square one with Dorian Gray,” Jacob huffs as he leans forward with a weary air.

He doesn’t particularly want to spend his ride to a doubtlessly grim fate briefing Dorian on a life not lived, but he is curious about whether this Dorian is genuinely a new version, or if he has been hit by serious brainwashing by his apparent employers.

“There are other worlds than these,” he starts. “Worlds with imPorts, I mean. I used to be in one of them. So did you. Things were... different, there. Better than what I’ve seen here, at least.”