He reaches across the table to put his hand over hers comfortingly as compassion and a hint of regret colour his feelings. "All of it has happened. Nothing's changed, though I can't think too deeply on that without getting a processor ache... and please don't feel that, because you didn't. I asked Primus what to do about the slivers, and he said to give them to him. So I did. All I remember of the time on the other side of the Veil is that I was there... and the echo of a memory of a song too great for my processor to compute. Until a few cycles ago all my memories of life before the assembly line were faint, like they were locked behind a firewall. But I always knew that I was waiting for something. Primus wouldn't tell me what, but when the wall went down I knew."