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Ángel peered at himself in the mirror as if maybe he were wrong but he knew that if he brought a hand to himself his reflection would do the same. It was strange, it wasn’t like looking at old photos or recalling a slightly warped memory, he was twenty-nine now and he had been twenty-nine then yet he’d never been twenty-nine as he had in the simulation. He wasn’t sure how to reckon that with such a clear image of a version of himself that previously never existed. Although he supposed that that wasn’t quite true anymore.