The Lost Soul seems like it's struggling to answer in earnest, like maybe it really wants to.

"I'm a liar," he says. The word trembles, like it's on the verge of breaking. Maybe it would, if everything wasn't so numbed and drained and dead as he must be, as he is. "Alex could be living a normal life. So could Jessica. So could everyone else if it wasn't for me."

What was once an impassioned scream in the burnt-out room in an abandoned hospital has been reduced to a listless mumble - a tired acceptance of what he is.

A curse on everyone's lives.