[“Mood alteration”. That’d be an eloquent way of putting it, and not thoroughly incorrect: Stephen might not want to get rip-roaring drunk, but a shared drink with a friend wouldn’t go awry to loosen a man’s taut and tired nerves.

And boy, are they tired and taut.

He takes the glass, waiting for Thancred to settle into the strangely-upholstered chair (pretty comfy, though!) before continuing his explanation.]

I don’t know if they happen to compensate for timeline inconsistencies. [It’s possible, but if so, it happens too sporadically to account for specific reasoning.] There are a handful of people from my world here, and we’re all over the place. Maybe it’s a side-effect of some kind, like the universe trying to play catch-up where there’s too much temporal leeway, but I can only guess.

[He pauses. Thancred can probably jump to his own conclusions, by now, but he may as well come out and say it:]

Anyway, it happened to me. It felt like I had gone back to Earth, and been there for years. Not even a single thought of Abraxas crossed my mind; not one memory of what's happened in this place. Like it never even happened.