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Previously, on Star Trek: Discovery...

We are creating a new way to fly.

If the Discovery can be anywhere,

and be gone within an instant,

that's how you beat the Klingons.

The only other

female Michael I ever heard of,

was the mutineer.

You're not her, are you?

I would like to extend
an official invitation

to you to join the Discovery.

8,000 are dead because of you.

8,186.

Klingons won't stop until
they've destroyed everything

in their path.

And we can't stop them without you.

Who is she to you?

Her name is L'Rell. She was my torturer.

If none of that had
happened, I wouldn't be here.

What did you do to me?

I will never let them hurt you.

I'll do one more jump.

Only one more jump.

Computer is reading it as an
incomplete navigation sequence.

Captain, I'm afraid I
don't know where we are.

Yellow alert.

Yellow alert.

This isn't Starbase 46.

Where the hell are we?

Our-our sensors are...

uh, recalibrating, sir.

What happened, here?

I don't remember reports of battles

anywhere near Organia.

Blast scoring and damage patterns

are consistent with Federation weapons,

but the hull signatures
are a little off.

Off?

Wreckage is Klingon,

but hull density analysis is registering

outside acceptable margins.

Is anything here a threat?

No life signs or
active power signatures.

Small favors.

Captain, our navigational
array is malfunctioning.

According to these readings,

we jumped to our intended coordinates,

and our position,

relative to the galactic
center, is confirmed.

But almost nothing else is
where it's supposed to be.

Nice of you to join us, Mr. Tyler.

I know it was only a yellow alert.

- I'm sorry, sir.
- Captain.

A vessel is approaching
at sub light speed.

Seems like a Vulcan cruiser.

On screen.

Well, the Vulcans must be the ones

who destroyed those Klingons.

- Should we hail them, sir?
- Yes, open a channel.

Unidentified Vulcan cruiser,

this is the USS
Discovery. Please respond.

Captain. The Vulcans
are powering up weapons.

They must have registered
an active Klingon ship

- somewhere nearby.
- Red alert. Shields up.

All stations at red alert.

Detmer, evasive pattern beta four pi.

- They're doubling back.
- I'm not able to lock on, sir.

Do it manually, shoot
in a general direction.

Where did that assist come from?

Incoming transmission
from the Coope sir.

- Audio only.
- Cooper?

Isn't she supposed to
be undergoing a refit?

Send it through.

Spooked by rebels, Discovery?

You're losing your edge. Don't worry.

We'll take care of them. Cooper out.

Vulcan rebels?

Firing on Starfleet?

Engineering, what's the
status of the spore drive?

Lieutenant Stamets is non-responsive.

He's stabilized, but there's no way

he can get back into that reaction cube.

Spore drive is offline, Captain.

I may have something.

The quantum signature of the Cooper,

as well as that of the Vulcan cruiser,

are inconsistent with ours.

That's not possible.

All matter native to our universe

resonates with the
same quantum signature,

nothing can change it.

That's true.

Unless...

this is not our universe.

- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans -
-- www.MY-SUBS.com --

Obviously, the idea of parallel worlds

has been around since the 20th century.

And you and Stamets believed

the spore drive could jump between them?

Well, it was a theory I was working on.

Stamets was keen to chase
it with me after the war.

But, these areas don't correlate

to anything in the known universe.

We suspected the mycelial network

extended way beyond
anything we'd imagined.

A vast system underpinning
all quantum realities.

But the exact coordinates
of some of the more

esoteric destinations eluded us.

Apparently, the 133 jumps
we made filled in the gaps.

An extraordinarily
fortunate coincidence.

I'd say unfortunate.

Wouldn't you, Number One?

It's worse than that.

The Klingon cloak-breaking
algorithm we'd been refining...

there's no way we can send
that back to Starfleet now.

That's why we have to make it back.

Otherwise, the ships
are just sitting ducks,

the war's as good as lost.

Well, Stamets brought
us here accidentally.

So, we should examine the
spore drive's navigational logs

- more closely. There could be an indication...
- I just pushed Stamets too hard.

The number of jumps
scrambled his ability

to hold the coordinates
for Starbase 46 in his head.

Now, what we need to do
is understand where we are

and how to survive.

Then we'll find a way home.

Recalibrate the sensors, and
you start looking at the records,

- see if there's something we can learn.
- Yes, Captain.

It's a palace. Stay close.

Lieutenant Stamets,
please don't hate me,

but what is the spore
germination rate, again?

And, uh, I know you always
have to remind me, but, uh,

the ideal moisture level
in the cultivation bay,

is-is it 85% or 87% relative humidity?

Um...

I was just, I was hoping I could, um,

maybe j-jog his memory
with familiar things.

Mainly, how annoying he finds me.

He's in a state of
neurological disregulation

unlike any I've ever seen.

- It's a palace.
- Paul.

- To the palace.
- Paul, no.

Oh, my God.

I'm okay.

I'm so sorry.

I should have told you
as soon as I found out

about the side effects from the jumps.

I shouldn't have kept it a secret.

Paul is your superior
officer, he gave you an order.

You didn't do this.

- Speak of the devil.
- Cadet.

- Excuse us.
- Yes, sir.

How is he?

Alternately catatonic,

then prone to bursts
of nonsensical speech.

He's contained for his own safety,

and his adrenals are
spiking uncontrollably.

I don't know if he'll ever be the same,

let alone if he'll ever jump again.

Yeah, I know you blame me for this,

and you're right.

I'm his captain, I'm
responsible for his well-being.

Yes.

You were.

Fortunately, his well-being

falls to me, now.

I'm afraid not.

I've decided to hand his
case over to another doctor.

No.

Medicine requires
professional objectivity,

Dr. Culber, and your... bias,

your personal bias compromises that,

it compromises his recovery.

Oh, suddenly, you care about protocol.

You wanted me to fake
Stamet's medical records

as a smoke screen.

I bought you time so that you could...

push him into all those jumps

and break the Klingon cloak.

So he did.

So we did.

I'm the most qualified to care for him.

Do you even want him to get better?

Or did you want all of this to happen?

You're clearly too emotional
to be able to handle this.

Maybe I let my emotions carry me away.

My need to win the war...

And look where it got us.

You have your orders.

Attention all personnel...

I'm detecting what looks to be

a Klingon central data
core in that wreckage.

It's inside a larger debris array

about 200 meters ahead of you.

Glad the sensors are working again.

Vulcan high-level math, Specialist?

And some good old-fashioned
human know-how, Lieutenant.

Copy that.

Readings are good, Captain.

I think the data core is intact.

If we can bring it on board,
we can get a crash course

on what those Klingons
knew about this universe.

Proceed with the extraction.

Closing in on the cockpit.

The core is likely part
of the main computer

located at the rear of the ship.

It should be easy enough to extract.

Seeing bodies in there.

Why can't he maintain a course?

Is the flight control malfunctioning?

- Burnham.
- There are no life signs

in that wreckage, Lieutenant.

You're all clear.

Ready to proceed?

Tyler.

What the hell is he doing?

Lieutenant Tyler.

Get in there and extract that data core.

Aye, sir.

Proceeding.

Approaching the Klingon raider.

The bodies are...

a Vulcan and Andorian.

A Vulcan and an Andorian?

Commanding a Klingon ship?

I've located the data core.

Looks intact. But I'll have to clear

some of the hull around
it with the laser cannon

to extract cleanly.

Proceed with extreme
caution, Lieutenant.

Even the slightest nick
could corrupt the data

or destroy the core completely.

Debris surface analysis
is non-conclusive.

Got it.

Get it to engineering as
fast as possible, Lieutenant.

You can relax, too.

He's safe now.

Sir?

I need to know that
I can rely on my crew

to act professionally at all times.

Particularly now. We're
in dangerous waters.

So...

can I count on you, Burnham?

Yes, sir.

Good.

What are you doing, standing there?

You can't hurt me anymore.

Now, why would I want to hurt you?

What did you do to me?

On the prison ship.

Tell me.

You know what we did.

We did it together.

So many things.

You have such appetites.

- You forced me.
- Does thinking that

make you feel better?

I'm having flashes of things...

things... I don't remember.

Procedures. Surgeries.

Sweet Tyler.

Open this cell,

and I'll tell you
everything you want to know.

Very good.

So much more...

familiar.

Tell me.

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

What did-what did you do to me?

I'm... I'm not myself.

You have another name.

- Say it!
- You know my what my name is!

If you don't tell me
what you did to my mind...

To my soul... I'm gonna make
you scream it as you die.

The prayer should make you
remember. Something is wrong.

You're damn right something's
wrong. Now, tell me!

What am I do... What am I doing?

- No.
- What am I doing?

Wait, wait.

Wait!

_

Attention, all personnel.

Black alert drills for deck seven

have been canceled until further notice.

Isik for your thoughts.

What's an isik?

It's an old Vulcan saying.

No one actually knows
where it comes from.

Must make it hard to cash in.

What happened out there?

In the worker bee?

What do you mean?

Security briefing on
deck one in five minutes.

It happened again.

The flashes of memory. Worse this time.

Things I hadn't recalled
about my torture.

Thanks for covering.

You have to tell the captain.

I know. But I can't.

Why?

PTSD regs require full-duty quarantine

till you can get treatment.
We're in another universe.

I mean, how close do
you think the nearest

- Starfleet medical center is?
- Who knows?

It might be around the corner.

Maybe.

But until that turns out to be true,

I need you to trust me.

What you went through on the
Klingon Ship of the Dead...

Was a one-off. Seeing those Klingons

took me by surprise, that's all.

I can manage this, all right?

You just saw me manage this.

You helped me manage...

Just let me try and handle things.

At least for a little while.

At least till we get back home.

- And what if you can't?
- Then I'll tell you, I promise.

I'm taking you at your word, Starfleet.

Specialist Burnham, please
report to engineering.

Duty calls.

The data core from the Klingon vessel...

I got it open.

Well done, Tilly.

Strange.

The core itself is Klingon, but...

these data chips are of Vulcan design.

They should be compatible
with our universal interface.

But this fused data technology,
and their sharing of ships...

Is it possible that in
this universe, the Vulcans,

Andorians and Klingons have...

some sort of alliance?

Allied against... against us?

I'm gonna get into the interface
and try to figure this out.

I know.

Me, too.

It's weird being here without him.

But he's gonna get better.

He has to, right?

Of course he does.

All right, let the
xenoanthropologist get to work.

I'm downloading the
Klingon raider's logs...

Images, battle plans, intelligence

that we found from the core.

And, so far, we can conclude

that we are indeed in
a parallel universe.

But one not governed by the Federation,

but by a fascistic,
human-only organization

known as the Terran Empire.

Most places and ships that
are found in our universe,

like the Cooper, exist here.

- The same goes for people.
- You mean, we could

literally meet another
version of ourselves?

Theoretically, yes.

Wow.

The Terrans appear to be

the antithesis of us, in every way.

They're an oppressive,

racist, xenophobic culture

that dominates all known space.

And they're ruled by a faceless emperor.

And those ships we found?

They're part of a rebellion

that is made up, essentially,

of all non-human species.

They're fighting for freedom.

The rebellion fears
and mistrusts humans.

The Terran culture appears
to be predicated upon

an unconditional hatred and rejection

of anything and everything "other."

That means us.

There's no way we're asking

these neighbors for a cup of sugar.

Captain to the bridge.

Incoming vessel.

- It's the Cooper.
- We're on our way.

We're being hailed, sir.

They're asking to
speak with the captain.

They think we're their Discovery.

All right, what intel do we have?

Scanning records from the core download.

Uh, wait. The rebel logs

show their ships being attacked

by a vessel with a warp signature

matching our Discovery,

but with a quantum signature

matching this universe.

They're hailing us again, sir.

That signature seems to have vanished

at the same coordinates
where we popped in.

- So...
- It is possible

we switched places with their Discovery.

I'm gonna run with Mr.
Saru's theory in the hope

that we don't bump into
ourselves and blow our cover.

- Burnham.
- Modifying our ship's

signature to match that
of mirror Discovery.

- Captain. They're saying
- Hold on, Lieutenant!

if we don't respond that we
should prepare to be fired on.

Open a channel. Audio only.

Belay that.

I'm sorry, but you can't take it, sir.

I'm examining the crew
manifest of mirror Discovery.

You're not its captain.

Who is?

That... uh, that's me.

That's me.

That's absurd.

Arming weapons.

Cadet... looks like

you're taking this one.

Uh, wh... uh, wh... what-what do I say?

You just get rid of
them as fast as possible.

And you talk as little as possible.

That's... Uh, that might
be a little hard for...

Have you noticed that I talk a lot?

Defy your every instinct.

Their phasers are locked on.

Should I raise shields, Captain?

No.

Mr. Bryce, open a channel.

Aye, sir.

Hello, this is Captain Tilly.
What the he-heck... hell?

What the hell?

Hold your horses!

This is Captain Spoeneman. Why the delay

in responding, Discovery?

I was... indisposed.

Everything okay over there,
Discovery? You made quick work

of those rebels, and
we got the stragglers.

Any reason you're still hanging around?

Expecting more kills? Trying
to keep them all to yourself?

We're experiencing mechanical issues.

Need a hand? We're not far.

And why are you not on screen?

Mechanical issues?

Here's my chief engineer.

I don't know who you
are over here just yet,

so conceal your voice just in case.

How are you doing, Captain?

Everything's squared away here.

We've got, uh... we've got
trouble with our visual emitters

and the starboard nacelle, but

a bit tweaking, we'll
be good to go, all right?

Very well, Discovery.

More rebel nests for us. Happy hunting.

Long live the Empire!

Long live the Empire!

Good.

Sor-sorry.

Next time, we might not
get away with audio only.

If we want to live to get back home,

we have to make it so we look

and act like we belong here.

Mr. Saru,

while we get up to
speed with this universe,

see to it that the ship,
the crew and its captain

are prepared.

Yes, sir.

I mean fully prepared.

To successfully crash a party,

you have to look like you belong.

You must project confidence.

You gained the rank of captain

by stabbing your
previous superior in bed.

He was recovering from Crestian flu.

That's not... that's not possible.

It's more than possible.

Your nicknames include
"The Slayer of Sorna Prime."

Every detail of this
so-called Terran Empire...

Yes, sir.

Must be replicated exactly.

"The Witch of Wurna Minor."

And wherever we may fall short,

we have to get creative.

And finally...

"Captain Killy"?

Well, that's not very clever.

Our very survival relies on our
ability to maintain this cover.

No matter what.

We are now the ISS Discovery.

Are we civilians?

Do we get uniforms? What?

We won't be needing them, sir.

I finally found the files
on our Terran counterparts.

We're not here.

Where are we?

I'm presumed dead.

And you're a fugitive
wanted for my murder.

Well, what happened?

Well, the intelligence is fragmented.

Looks like most of it's been stolen

from classified Terran files.

But it appears

that you and I both enjoyed
immense prestige here.

I was the captain of the Shenzhou.

And you had the Buran here, too, sir.

And my crew... they alive?

No.

You attempted a coup
against the emperor.

I was sent to stop you.

In the process, my shuttle was destroyed

by one of your followers,
and I was killed.

And the emperor laid waste
to your ship in retaliation.

It's believed you escaped.

Well, there's me hoping

I'd find a better version
of myself over here.

Look out there.

Come on.

Amazing, isn't it?

Different universe, but
somehow the same people

had a way to find each other.

The strongest argument

I've ever seen for the
existence of destiny.

I'm not sure if I believe in destiny.

Well, is that so?

Sitting in that cell all alone,

facing a life sentence of solitude,

future full of misery.

A little part of you had to know

that wasn't the end of your story.

You were destined for something more.

Destiny didn't get me
out of prison, Captain.

You did that.

Well, let's agree to
disagree... for now.

So, who is this emperor?

There's no information
in the rebel files

beyond the fact that
the emperor is savage.

Maybe it's not a bad thing
that you and I are ghosts.

I found something
curious in the data here.

A potential way home.

I didn't know how to
exploit it till right now,

but I think you might
end up saving us all.

It's a suicide mission.

- No, listen, Commander.
- Data from rebel intelligence suggests

that we're not the first ship

from our universe to
find ourselves here.

It cites another Starfleet
vessel... USS Defiant.

How is that possible?

At last review, the
Defiant was patrolling

Sector six in our universe.

There may be some kind of
temporal anomaly at play.

It's unclear, but data
suggests that in the future,

Defiant will encounter a
phenomenon that'll bring it

into this alternative universe's past.

Regardless, the Defiant is
a Constitution class vessel.

It didn't get here by spore drive.

If we find out how it did make it over,

could be our way home.

But boarding the ISS Shenzhou?

Posing as your Terran selves?

Well, that plan is an
invitation for calamity.

Captain, I beg you to reconsider.

Intel on the Defiant is classified.

It's only available on a Terran ship

to those with high-level clearance.

- Like a captain.
- But you are an enemy of the empire and

- no longer a captain, Captain.
- No, but I am.

But I thought the
other Burnham was dead.

Presumed dead. My body was never found.

I'm responsible for her death.

And I'm still at large.
So, Captain Burnham

will be returning to the Shenzhou,

- with me as bounty.
- And I'll explain

that my death was a cover that
I used to hunt him to the end

- of the quadrant.
- Delightful.

We beam over,

Burnham gets the info on Defiant,

we beam back. Simple.

Every captain in the
empire has a personal guard.

You're gonna be Burnham's.

Am I?

Have long-range sensors scan

for the ISS Shenzhou. When you find her,

plot an intercept course.

Let's get us home.

Yes, sir.

What exactly are you
worried about, Lieutenant?

I just want you to make sure

the Klingons didn't do something to me.

Some kind of procedure
I don't know about.

Well, of course, you
know, anything is possible.

But you were exposed to a
full set of physical scans

when you came on board.

And random memory sampling,
the Manchurian test,

is highly effective at detecting

what used to be called brainwashing,

i.e. the installation of commands

or personality engrams

underneath a functioning consciousness.

What exactly are you imagining
they could have done to you?

I'm not imagining anything.

Forgive me, Lieutenant.

I meant the word
practically, not pejoratively.

As in when one uses the imagination

to picture what is not yet known.

Or seen.

Are you suffering from mood swings?

Fugue states? Lost time?

If any of that is the case,

I'll have to ground you.

I just want to make sure

I'm shipshape before this mission.

The people on this
ship, they saved my life.

I won't let 'em down.

Well, let me run a deeper set of scans.

What you probably need
most right now is rest

and some time off of this ship.

Not much chance of that, Doc.

Stay out of the palace!

I'll just be a minute.

Paul, I'm not going anywhere.

I'm gonna stay right by your side.

It'll be okay.

Be careful. The enemy is here.

I'd say, um, I'm 60% excited,

40% terrified.

Actually, it's 60%
terrified, 40% excited.

- Maybe it's 70%...
- Tilly.

Sorry. Sorry.

And stop apologizing.

Terrans don't apologize.

Well, my mother would
definitely approve.

Computer, cancel mirror.

You are a captain now.

No, I'm not. She is.

I'm nothing like her, Michael.

She's terrifying. She's-she's
like a twisted version

of everything I've ever aspired to be.

I'm gonna have nightmares
about myself now.

You don't actually have to be her.

But how do I project that strength?

I've been trying to
understand them better.

And Terran strength is
born out of pure necessity.

Because they live in constant fear,

always looking for the next
knife aimed at their back.

Their strength is painted rust.

It's a facade.

But you have the
strength of an entire crew

that believes in you.

Fortify yourself with our faith in you.

That's what a real captain does.

Impressive.

Well, let's not keep
these assholes waiting.

Too much?

No.

Not here.

Here, it's just right.

Mr. Bryce.

- Yes, Captain.
- Hail the ISS Shenzhou.

Now.

Aye, Captain.

This is the ISS Discovery

hailing the ISS Shenzhou.

Shenzhou, do you read? Over.

Captain Tilly.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

And how can I return the favor?

The only pleasure I take is
from the blood of my enemies

staining my uniform,

Captain Connor.

You know him?

He was my ops officer on the Shenzhou.

I watched him die at the
Battle of the Binary Stars.

I knew we'd encounter familiar faces.

But is this what it's
gonna be like here?

While scouring the
asteroid belts of Porathia,

searching for hidden rebels,

I happened to come
across a disabled shuttle.

Inside, I found something

I think you'll find most interesting.

Showtime.

Captain Burnham.

We-we thought you were...

You thought exactly what I wanted you

and everyone else to think.

Especially him.

It was the only way I
could capture this traitor.

Most ingenious.

I don't need your compliments, Connor.

I need my ship.

Of course.

I expect you've kept
her in perfect condition?

Yes, Captain.

Then bring her to me.

We have a rebel group
pinned down in this system.

It would be better if you come to us.

Is that how you treat
your long-lost captain?

If you greeted me that way, Connor,

I'd cut out your tongue
and use it to lick my boots.

We will alter course

to the Discovery at
once, Captain Burnham,

and prepare for your arrival.

Be sure that you do.

You called, Doc?

- You find anything?
- Yeah. Um...

have you ever received any...

neurological therapies

or marrow-diminution procedures before?

- No. Not that I know of.
- 'Cause there are masses

of scar tissue surrounding
all of your organs.

Right. From my torture.

Right, that's what the computer
concluded when you first came aboard.

But... I've run more advanced tests,

and...

if I'm reading these
chondroblast-cell scans correctly,

what the Klingons did to you
can only be described as...

bone-crushing.

They opened up your limbs.

And they appear to have
shortened your radius,

your femurs,

even your spinal cord.

- What are you getting at?
- Well, this is

just a theory, Tyler, but...

remember we confirmed
that no personality engrams

were hidden under your native identity?

- Okay.
- Well...

there's some research that suggests that

a new personality could be placed...

atop it,

like an overlay, with...

the original personality
still intact underneath.

It appears that the Klingons
have transformed you.

Both mentally and physically.

Into what?

That's what we have to figure out.

Doc, I came here for a solution.

- Now, you said you could fix it.
- Please, sit down.

- I'm needed on a mission!
- I'm afraid you're

not going anywhere without
further examination.

- They need me!
- Well, that's just it.

As far as I'm concerned...

you're not you.

The enemy is here.

Incoming warp signature.

ISS Shenzhou approaching.

My God.

Captain, we're being hailed.

Open a channel.

Inform Shenzhou, three to beam over.

Aye, sir.

Gonna look after her.

Mr. Saru, you're in charge now.

Well, I guess you're in charge
to anybody off the ship...

Captain Killy.

Maintain a safe distance.

Close enough to transport us back

as soon as Burnham gets her
hands on the Defiant files.

I won't let you down, sir.

I know you won't.

Tyler.

Where were you?

Uh...

I-I'm not sure, sir.

What?

There's no excuse for my tardiness.

Sorry, Captain.

No more apologies.

From now on, we're Terrans.

Decency is weakness, will get us killed.

And the lives of everyone on this ship

and in the Federation are at stake.

So you do what you must.

Whatever you must.

To anyone.

Understand?

- Aye, Captain.
- Clear, Captain.

Guess that's the last time
you're calling me "Captain."

Hopefully, just for a while.

You ready?

Energize.

Captain Burnham.

Welcome back to the Shenzhou.

We've made some modifications.

Replaced the lateral-vector
transport systems.

Let me take this bastard off your hands.

He's due for a world of pain.

Keep your hands off him.

You think I'd let just
anyone control the fate

of the most valuable
bounty in the galaxy?

I'll take Lorca to the brig personally.

There are any number of souls on board

looking to serve up his severed
head for their own glory.

Of course. I'll escort you, Captain.

Only the finest agonizer booth

reserved for the treacherous Lorca.

Absolutely not.

Captain?

What did I say to you?

I do not want

some overzealous guard
killing this traitor

before I have the chance.

I would punish the entire
ship for an error that grave!

We would never allow him the
release of death, Captain.

See to it that he is
installed properly here.

I need to access my files.

Escort me to the ready room.

You know, I almost
didn't make it to captain

after you were gone.

But I still came out on top.

The emperor saw something in me.

Glad to hear it.

The crew...

they all bowed after I won.

But they didn't bow deeply enough.

Not like they did with you.

I needed to make them fear me.

And now I finally think I know how.

I don't need a blade
to kill you, Captain.

The chair is yours, Captain.

Dispose of him.

With pleasure, sir.

Long live Captain Burnham!

Long live the Empire!

Long live the Empire.

You scared the hell out of me.

How did you get in?

Your access code was
the same as on Discovery.

You know, head of security.

I know all of them. It's not just yours.

So, did you get into the files?

Get the information about the Defiant?

No chance.

Everybody on the crew...

they're trailing me.

Trying to sidle up,

curry favor.

And I didn't want to rouse suspicion.

I heard about what happened.

With Connor.

I need to tell you something.

Whatever you do,

whatever this place makes you do,

whatever happens to you.

Or me.

However we change...

I am here to protect you.

Nothing will ever stand
in the way of that.

Nothing.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

Yes.

I'm saying it back.

- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans -
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