[Suddenly, Badger woke up, his eyes widened and he sat straight up. He grabbed for his head… what a weird dream that was. Or was it a dream? He didn’t know, and just stood up. The kid looked around.]

“The power’s still out… augh.” [He mumbled, starting to wander around the gallery. Good god, the people from the gallery were back. You tapped one’s shoulder, but the woman didn’t respond. She did not likely respond at all, and walked away. You tried it again, but they just all ignored you.]

[Badger looked around, and noticed that most of them were looking at the Hanged Man painting. Or theywere… the actual painting seemed rather familiar with him…
Suddenly his eyes widened. He wasn’t looking at someone familiar. He was looking at himself. He was sleeping. He was a painting.]

[Suddenly he felt himself being watched. Badger noticed pairs of eyes staring at him. Or not him… someone else that sort of was him. Badger stepped away to see an exact copy of himself.]

“Let’s go.” [Some of the audience said, walking away - but then the Badger-copy told them to stay. And they did. They did stay. How did he do that? How did he excist for others, while Badger himself didn’t? He noticed himself staring at his copy, who looked back and smirked. Badger didn’t feel so great about this.]