Je pense donc je suis.

- Rene Descarte

Reality - everything that's happened in the last couple of weeks has really made me rethink my views of reality. What makes something real? A lot of what I thought was real, or not real, has completely changed. The Disciple says that it is only my presence that makes things real. And I have seen the effect that my "presence" has on his "reality." But is it really just my presence?

What defines my presence? Perhaps it's not merely my physical being. How do my thoughts affect that which is real? If I think of something, does it exist? If I forget, does it...cease to exist?

If I forget? If I remember? Apparently, whole...universes, realities, exist at the whim of the one-time gods, of which I am the barest shard. Do they cease to exist at their whim as well? If no one remembers the shadows of the reflections of a city created by the will of a long dead god, was it ever really there to begin with?

Logic would dictate their loss. All of the things which I held dear...the things I still hold dear, would cease to be without my remembrance. And these shadows, created out of a long lost whim...they would wither as well.

The Disciple speaks of no others who hold the shard, although his brothers search.

The memory, then, falls to me. The duty of maintenance, the lives, the fates, the very existence of infinite worlds, rely on my ability to remember them.

I can only hope that my gifts suit the task.

Je pense donc vous etes.