[He's taken his minute to cry. He's thrown the tablet a couple times, yelled a lot -- he'd gotten it out of his system before he got on the network. That was the intention, anyway.

"my leg." Look at that, he didn't even have to fish for information to get this one figured out. Stephen should tell him to fuck right off with his puzzles.]

Two years. The more relevant question might be how debilitating Solomons' back is.

[He keeps his eyes on the text message as he reads off the name, careful to get it right.]


Your mobility was impaired by your leg; I don't need hands to run from monsters.