The Guilt of the Survivor

Tenever watched himself bring Sadie back with the craftsman's satisfaction, knowing his protective wards had served their use. He remembered this particular layer, for use in situations just like this. In case of his own incapacitation through manipulation of his senses, decision-making or sanity, he would be temporarily controlled by a construct of his own making. An approximation of his self.

So it was this half-Tenever that realised Sadie was in the grip of some hallucination, who would use words and violence to snap her out of it, while the real him had but a spark of comfort in his own personal hell.

It started, as always, with an impact that struck with implacable force - from behind, sapping his wards with the strength of the blow. A realisation that this was the body of Ferris, the man behind him, his own wards having expired under the force of the explosion to their rear. His body, in death, saving Tenever's life.

The physics of the situation threw him through the doorway and into the room beyond.