What do you find when you've lost everything? Master Cheng used to ask me that.. 

All my friends.. gone. There's no reason to think I'll ever see them again. 
Michelle, Neil, Jacob, Renee, Professor Wilkins, the waiter at Delhi Darbar, the 
dog who pisses on the stoop.. I'm not going home. There's no chance of it. 

Saint Thomas Aquinas is as dead as his namesake, and his body faded like a false 
Assumption or a faulty assumption. Vox Populi lost her voice long ago. St. John 
the Divine is my only voice, and he's a drug-addled madman crying for the demise 
of a sinning world. 

Owen is nice, but.. I don't know. He could be one of the old men on the porch of 
the retirement homes in Boston. Or he could be a corpse. I can't handle this. 

And now, as I speak through St. John the Divine, I feel something below me. The 
chi down there is flowing faster and hotter, and I hear St. John screaming his 
self-fulfilling revelations. My fingers are starting to bleed, but St. John won't 
hear of stopping. 

What you find when you've lost everything.. is everything. I never knew the 
answer to Master Cheng's question until now, but it seems so clear. That was 
exactly his style. 

So there's nothing I can do except keep playing and try to find everything.