[Intro narration] There is an ancient Indian saying that something lives only as long as the last person who remembers it. My people have come to trust memory over history. Memory, like fire, is radiant and immutable while history serves only those who seek to control it, those who douse the flame of memory in order to put out the dangerous fire of truth. Beware these men for they are dangerous themselves and unwise. Their false history is written in the blood of those who might remember and of those who seek the truth.
[standing over an unconscious Mulder] I was first struck by the absence of time, having depended on it so completely as a measure of myself and my life. Moving backwards into the perpetual night - it consumes purpose, indeed, all passion and will. I come to you, old friend, with the dull clarity of the dead, not to beckon, you but to feel the fire and intensity that still live in you... and the heavy weight of your burdens which I had once borne. There is truth you know, friend, if that's all you seek, but there's no justice or judgment, without which truth is a vast... dead... hollow. Go back. Do not look into the abyss or let the abyss look into you; awaken the sleep of reason and fight the monsters within and without.
Hello, son. I did not dare hope to see you so soon, nor ever again hope to broker fate with a life to which I gave life. The lies I told you were a pox and poison to my soul, and now you are here because of them. Lies I thought might bury forever a truth I could not live with. I stand here ashamed of the choices I made so long ago when you were just a boy. You are the memory, Fox. It lives in you. If you were to die now, the truth will die. And only the lies survive us.
