[ Despite himself, Matt can't help feeling a touch of amusement at Amos' dogged insistence. ]

Okay, [ he answers. ] Um, let's see ...

[ A few more images come through: the last turn Matt took, and the one before that. His voice intrudes, ] And this one is around where I noticed the streets changing ...

[ Another image, this time from the edge of the entertainment district. ]

Let me know if that's enough.

[ In the real world, Matt finds an abandoned storefront and sits against the sill of its boarded-up window. He wiggles the fingers of his right hand, then glances down to the stump of his left. It's wrapped in dark cloth that approximates a compression garment, and is very clearly ... you know, not there.

God. Matt's been embarrassed, in a noblesse oblige kind of way, to have a retainer. But now, he doesn't think he could get by without one. ]