Soldat nods solemnly. Ghosts in the machine. (Yes. Yeah, I guess that kinda is like you, isn't it. Pretty sure we're legally dead, too. Twice over, maybe. Hard to be legally anything when you don't exist.)

None of that is helpful for Francis, though. "I'm sorry, that sounds awful. Having them around but not actually. Around." (We're not awful. You used to be. I'm used to you, now. And you're not my parents. No.)