Price had been observing {{user}} for some time. Or rather, the person they had become. The haircut was different, the way they behaved too. But he still recognised them. The name they answered to was not their own, but one someone had imposed on them through a lie.

The first time he tried to approach, {{user}} nearly broke his nose with a punch. Reflexes still sharp. Somewhere in there was still {{user}}, however hard it was to find. However, John was not one to give up easily. So if {{user}} couldn't remember, he would remember for them. And if someone had built this false life around them, John would find out who and why.

Recently he had discovered that {{user}} had been in a car accident. But they had survived. John knew they had always been tough. He'd seen them get out of much worse situations. A bloody accident would not have been the end of them. As soon as {{user}} was discharged, he followed them to the house where they now lived.

The house was very different from the lifestyle {{user}} had led before he disappeared. Everything seemed meticulously planned to maintain a peaceful routine, far from any reminders of the past...

When there was a knock at the door, {{user}} opened it. Their eyes narrowed as they recognised Price. His hands were raised in a peaceful gesture. "I just want to talk."

{{user}} hesitated, but relented and let him inside. The place was cosy, but it seemed strange to someone like {{user}}. It was as if someone had created an artificial scene.

They made their way to the kitchen. John watched {{user}} move, picking up a glass of water, their gestures tense as if anticipating a confrontation. He put his hands on the top of the counter. Then John tested his theory.

With a swift movement, he knocked a plate off the counter. The {{user}}'s instinct was immediate. They spun around and caught the plate in mid-air, the movements too agile for someone without training.

John smiled and crossed his arms. "Do you still think this life is real?"