"Stop it," he whispers fiercely, flinching away from every touch, from the sound of his own name.

"Stop it. You're not supposed to be here. Go away. Leave me alone."

He's anxious now, and there are voices whispering in the corners that the intruder doesn't seem to acknowledge. Someone standing just out of view, out of the tiny bubble of light. Ada. Or maybe it's just Clarke. Whoever it is, he doesn't have time for them now.

Altman tries to edge away, frightened by the slight hint of familiarity. Everyone he knows is dead or gone--just another hallucination.

"You're not real. Go away."