Noah,

You won’t remember writing this. Don’t panic. That’s normal for us these days, part of the damage that Father and his implant did to us along with our own reckless stupidity. You’ll need to read back your memories so you can fake being a real boy for another day with the help of the very thing that ruined us. So read. Read and remember who you are for a few hours, until you lose it all again. Don’t stop, even when you realize what a complete and utter bastard you are. We deserve that guilt. We earned it.

Don’t go anywhere or talk to anyone until you’re done. We’ve done enough damage by going into a day without our memory. We’re not doing that again.

Only our favorite brother knows about our condition. Credit to him for helping compile this record using his enhanced memory, the old journal we kept, the last bits of our old life lingering in our broken gray matter, and of course our implant’s logs. We had to guess on a few things to fill in some blanks, but this is close enough to what actually happened on everything important that you can trust it. Even if we got a few things wrong, it’s better than the gaping void where our memory should be.

Try not to kill yourself today, no matter how much we deserve it. We’ve got too much work to do for that. We stopped him from saving the world, so that’s our job now.

—Noah