You don't dream in the tank.

You aren't sleeping, after all. You're being born.

You aren't conscious, of course. It's something else. Some other state that isn't sleep and isn't wakefulness. It's a place of not-being, a state of lack. Zen-like in its unattainable emptiness. It's a state of mind that only Julia can make for you.

You aren't aware of time passing, but when the tank's work is done, you're aware that time has passed. The world has shifted its position around you. It's never easy to gauge how much time has passed. How long you've been here. How long you've been anywhere.

This time, you believe it's been longer than normal. A good, extensive rest. Something anxious skitters at the bottom of your stomach. That long without Julia? The unease prickles the back of your neck. You reach out for the release button, opening the tank. You step out into your life. The air feels humid and warm. There's a tang in the air, a taste like pennies and ash. Familiar.

The right side of the tank is open. Slumped there, barely a step in front of it, is your own body. Collapsed in a heap, blood congealing on the floor. Face simply gone. Julia's finished her game already.

You stare down at that wreckage for a long, silent moment. The clone had all your memories, your feelings. It thought it was you. But it died holding an experience of Julia that you don't have. One that you didn't even get to see. The jealousy deflates you. 

When you look away from the mess Julia left, you start looking for her. It doesn't take long. She's seated at the table, an empty glass beside her. There's a gun on the table, and you can smell the burnt powder of it. Julia looks contemplative. Not unhappy, but lost in thought. You approach quietly, trying to sense her mood, to divine what she needs in this moment.

These are the toughest times. You've done this more times that you can remember - killed for Julia, helped Julia destroy, watched while she played or cleaned up afterwards. Rebirth after rebirth after rebirth, you've become adept at intuiting Julia's every feeling and want and expectation. But it's this space right here, when the game's just concluded, when she's still so very hard to read.

She looks up at you as you approach, seeming almost surprised to see you. She searches your face. "How much do you remember?" she asks at last. "How long have we been playing this game?"

Her sincerity is clear. She's really asking. You don't know why, but it's not your place to question Julia's motives or requests. You just need to provide. "I remember everything," you say, voice croaking a bit. It's always hard to talk right after coming out of the tank. Your tongue is thick and dry, like a chunk of wood in your mouth. "Some of it... blurs together, a little. Details are hard. But I remember."

"And you want to keep playing?"

Blindsided, you nod. "Of course," you say. You're at a loss for words. This game is what you do. Stopping doesn't make any sense. Julia wants it, enjoys it, and that means you do, too. You want to say more, to convince her that all you care about is giving her what she needs, but the idea is too big and encompassing to be reduced to words. 

"You know, I don't remember anymore whose idea it was in the first place," she says with a strange laugh. "I kind of just assume that it was mine. But I wonder if I've rewritten our history or something. I feel like you might have been the one to push for it. Not that either of us expected it to turn into... this," she says, and her eyes flick past you. To the tank. To the body. "But it's hard to stop, isn't it?" She looks at you again, and her smile is starting to pull its way wide again.

You nod. You smile as well, loving the feeling of Julia shedding this momentary melancholy and getting back to being herself. "I don't want to stop," you say emphatically, and the way Julia shifts makes you shiver.

"That's enough for today," she says, and you're disappointed, of course. You want to be of use to her. You want to offer up your body to provide for her. But that's selfish. You don't understand what she's grappling with at the moment but you know you've helped, in whatever small way you can. That's enough. "We'll play again soon, I promise. And I'll be much more fun then. Just wait." She winks at you, and your heart thuds with anticipation and desire and love.

"Go on," she says, and nods at the tank. "I'll clean up this time. You go get tucked in."

You get into the left side.

You get into the right side.