[ Closing his eyes while Mikotoba explains, Sherlock thinks back to what he had experienced before arriving here. Was everything after the axe came down on him was the dream Mikotoba is referring to? Oh dear. Sherlock remembers yelling at the voice he heard, but what regret had he agreed to in that state?

He paces a bit more until he settles again at the bed, leaning against it instead of taking a seat this time. ]

That seems rather excessive if these orbs are as powerful as they claim. Another new world just for one? Or, since we've established that there are others like me, do these orbs take the me from that world and place him in my spot? Somehow mix the two of us together like clay?

[ All of this should sound unbelievable, so why then does he not have trouble believing in it? ]

I was in the middle of an important case with Watson. I would much rather not leave the good doctor alone in the Louisiana Bayou.

[ Even if Watson could take care of himself. He is, as he's said before, unfailingly dependable. ]