[Peter thinks quickly as he falls. He only has so much time. The rules of this game are fickle. He could give up his life, but what would that matter when he's about to lose it? Hitting the ground, he thinks, the gift of escaping? Can he give gifts he doesn't have?]
[But don't all of them have the potential to escape?]
[Peter lets his vision blur. This is better than when he died last time. He feels warm. Almost comforted. Hazy with lassitude, like he could do anything, be anything.]
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[But don't all of them have the potential to escape?]
[Peter lets his vision blur. This is better than when he died last time. He feels warm. Almost comforted. Hazy with lassitude, like he could do anything, be anything.]
[Peter thinks, freedom is a gift. Have that.]