Could he manage? Probably not. But then, what was there to manage? He knew enough about the Cage to know that people weren't supposed to just spontaneously pop out of it. As real as everything felt, as convincing as she was, he still couldn't quite believe he was in a real place.

And he didn't have to fear make-believe ones. Right?

The act of pulling himself to his feet was one of pure muscle memory, and he stopped to balance himself with a hand on the chair. "Thanks for the water," he said, which wasn't an answer but was answer enough.

Adam didn't have a choice in facing whatever the Cage or this place threw at him. "Managing" it was optional.