Nephlas: Mommy? Mommy, what's wrong? Mindmistress: This--this doll!! How can you play with it--pretend with it---without it putting you into a trance? Without making you a victim of the 'fantasy plague'?Nephlas: But you played with it, Mommy---when you were a little girl--- Mindmistress: I know. I remember playing with it at your grandfather's house---but logic tells me no neohuman mind can 'pretend' long without creating an imaginary world so overwhelming it blots out the real world--

Mindmistress: So no neohuman can go through the necessary imitative and imaginative play of childshood---so this world---and its billions, neohuman since birth---can't be real. Inconsistencies, he said.  Then the imagined world falls apart---Mindmistress: I must not have been born neohuman. I must have achieved it as an adult. The blonde-haired reflection in the pool--the blonde I thought I had forgotten---Hatrid shattering the warp-shield shattering the slow-time field---but the doll is the clincher. I'm the one stuck in a trance.
Click on the eye above, in the last panel.


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