[ Despite his reminder to himself to keep calm, to not let emotion get in the way, the dust and dirt that settles between and on the planks under their feet begins to stir, moved by his frustration. Noticing that it does doesn’t help his mood and the croissant in his hand goes ignored. ] 

It's more than that. I saw the sky crack in the Horizon. I saw the Singularity turn upside down and I know in my bones that I'm not from here. 

[ He gestures around them. ] 

If the magic here can make this seem real, what is stopping it from making us forget swathes of our personal history?