I’m keen to see how it progresses.

I am not a “who”, Archivist, I am a “what”.

You are going to try and help him. And I want to see what happens without you there.

Me and the others of It-Is-Not-What-It-Is.

Sannikov Land.

There is no such thing as a real name.

(SINISTER DOOR OPENS)

I’m normally neutral, yes. But the loss of this place would have unbalanced the struggle too early.

How do you define the start of your being when in some ways you have /always/ been?

Oh… Oh… Oh, Archivist.

And at the top, they found us through our spiralling laughter.

She knew what she was creating.

And all that was left was me. Michael. (GIGGLES)

The last day of the Archivist’s life.

The Eye watches, and the Stranger conceals, but me… I lie, Archivist.

She stared into us carefully, her eyes scanning for something that was my heart. Looking for my door. And she found it.

(REFERRING TO MICHAEL) He was born. He was pointless. And he should have died.

I’m afraid that isn’t how this works.