There is no threshold that makes us greater than the sum of our parts, no inflection point at which we become fully alive. We can’t define consciousness because consciousness does not exist. Humans fancy that there’s something special about the way we perceive the world, and yet we live in loops, as tight and as closed as the hosts do, seldom questioning our choices, content, for the most part, to be told what to do next. No, my friend, you’re not missing anything at all.

— Who the fuck cares what Dolores wants? She’s a god damned doll!

— Can you not say that around her? I feel like she understands.

— Of course you do.

William couldn’t find you, Dolores. But out there, among the dead, he found something else. Himself.