Shane (Telepathy): Kore, Kore, Kore
Narration(Kore): A front porch sipping tea, junebugs in the twilight.
Shane (Telepathy): Kore!
Narration(Kore): Bouncing through the dust in a truck with our arms crooked out the windows.
Narration(Kore): A woman…—I don’t remember her at all— Shane’s sister…
Narration(Kore): …and how she cooked pasta over an electric stove.
Narration(Kore): Thousands of tons of stone rock back and forth over our heads.
Narration(Kore): The lives of the five hundred and thirty two people in the palace…depend on my ability to match a darting mouse…pounce on him, hold down his unpredictable patterns of thought.
Narration(Kore): Let him thrash until he exhausts his telepathy. Inconsolable.
Narration(Kore): Where the hell is Yes? Why isn’t he here yet?
Narration(Kore): Shane’s telepathy is so very faint compared to my own, but I can’t even begin to control him.
Narration(Kore): I can barely fight him back. He’s outmaneuvering my mind immediately the moment I think I have a solid hold on him.
Narration(Kore): A terrible realization begins to dawn on me…
Narration(Kore): Thanos can never go back.