ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - If an assault were launched on this building right now -- if the windows came crashing down and the whole world descended upon you -- this man would hurl himself in death's way to save you. You are sure of this -- but why?

YOU - Shake his hand.

.............

KIM KITSURAGI - "God, please..." the lieutenant says quietly, without trembling. He aims, face pale...

BLOATED CORPSE OF A DRUNK - You're not kidding anyone, Harry. You don't remember ♥♥♥♥. Tell me...

Do you remember your wife's hand on your face?

YOU - You said... who?

BLOATED CORPSE OF A DRUNK - Do you remember the warmth of her thighs, between her legs and in her mouth?

YOU - TELL ME WHAT THIS IS!!! I'm not answering before you tell me who you are.

BLOATED CORPSE OF A DRUNK - You know who I am. I am the bad day. The one where you ask her, and then later in the streets, wandering... It's the worst day of all time, Harry dear, and it's coming. She will hear about it on the phone.

Reality will turn into a grotesque nightmare. This'll be the last thing you did to her. Tell me -- do you remember the love of your life?

YOU - I left.

BLOATED CORPSE OF A DRUNK - Oh no, funky-baby, you *stayed*. It was the rest of it that left. While you just stood there. With one hand on the bottle and the other on your ♥♥♥♥ -- watching it go.

Tell me, where are your friends? Human beings have friends, Harry-boy. Where the hell are yours?

YOU - I can get it all back.

BLOATED CORPSE OF A DRUNK - No. It's gone. Three times gone and never coming back. You failed. You failed me.

You failed Elysium.

You really dropped the ball, Harry. Four point six billion people -- and you failed every single one of them. You really *♥♥♥♥♥♥ up*.

YOU - I've talked to you before.

BLOATED CORPSE OF A DRUNK - No, Harry. You were just talking to yourself. That's all you ever do. Even in your dreams. And the act is wearing thin, the spots of the disco ball fade around you...

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - You'll be back in those cold snake skins in no time, sweating up the bed...

LIMBIC SYSTEM - Stinky boy.

YOU - I can come back from this.

BLOATED CORPSE OF A DRUNK - You're not coming back from ♥♥♥♥! Thrashing around in that *high-conductivity state* of yours, bumping into things and acting like a *clown*. Who are you kidding?

YOU - I'm trying to solve... trying to solve this case.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - You're trying to what? I can't hear you, this is just a word-dream now. Jumbled up garbage. The pictures are gone, the bed rises to meet you. A thin sleep-like state. More glass than velvet, *grinding* in your head.

LIMBIC SYSTEM - So-something is *wrong*. Sleep shouldn't be this bad. This dry. This un-nourishing. There's something wrong with your thoughts. Some kind of... new type of hangover...

A silent alarm goes off in your head, like clockwork, barely let you sleep at all... Time to get those clothes on, Harry!

Time to go to work in the ♥♥♥♥ factory!

.............

YOU - "I DON'T WANT TO BE THIS KIND OF ANIMAL ANYMORE!"